Encounters with the Past
by mirkwood cat
Summary: after Gimli is ambushed, Legolas and the dwarf come across adversaries from the past... reviews very much appreciated. kind of sequel to 'A Matter Of Honor'.
1. Prologue

This story is dedicated to Little My. Thank you for editing my writing and all the   
encouragement !!!  
  
I planned not to start posting until I had written a few chapters… but I quickly noticed   
I got so used to all the begging and the threats that I can hardly work without them   
anymore… :-). So I decided to post this little epilogue and wait for the reviews … :-)  
  
___  
  
Gimli son of Gloin was a very content dwarf as he moved through the woods, on his   
way to Minas Tirith once more. It was hard to divide his time between the building of   
a dwarven realm in the Glittering Caves and overseeing the work his folk did for   
Elessar, King of Gondor in the reconstruction of the walls and streets of the White   
City. But the progress he could see in both places filled him with pride and   
satisfaction.   
  
He himself had only two days ago laid the last touches to a room of his very own   
design in the Glittering Caves, and the result was all he had expected it to be. He   
could not help but grin at the thought of for whom this special room had been   
created.  
  
The beautiful caves that had captured this dwarf's heart on first sight had not been   
touched, either with hammer or chisel. But they had found enough natural caverns   
and rooms to offer a place for living without compromising the natural beauty of the   
place.   
  
But now his presence was needed in Minas Tirith. One task he had taken on was to   
forge new gates, and for this he returned to the city of Gondor. Long months had   
passed since he had seen any of his friends, and he wondered if Legolas had moved   
to Ithilien yet. If this were the case, maybe he would find the time to see his friend   
again. A smile graced the dwarf's face at that thought. He had come to be quite fond   
of the elf and missed him more than he wished to admit.   
  
Steadily he marched on, and he would have presented the perfect picture of a   
common dwarf had there been not a horse trotting behind him. It was smaller than   
average, but there was no doubt that it was of Rohirrim breed and it followed its   
master without the need of being lead. As dwarves were usually not fond of horses,   
this was a most unusual sight.  
  
Knowing that a small village was close where he could spend the night and get a   
hearty meal and a pint of ale, Gimli lengthened his strides, his stomach growling in   
anticipation.   
  
@@@  
  
The tavern was full and loud, and with his stomach filled and his pipe lit, Gimli soon   
found himself ready to retire, knowing it would be another day's traveling until he   
reached Minas Tirith. As he climbed up the stairs leading to the guestrooms, he did   
not notice the pair of eyes watching him intently.   
  
@@@  
  
Dawn had just come when the dwarf left the village again, eager to arrive at his   
destination as soon as possible.   
  
The attack came out of nowhere, for Gimli had never noticed he was being followed.   
So he was not prepared for the man that came to stand before him, sword in hand   
and a dangerous gleam in his eyes. It was the warrior in Gimli that reacted to the   
sudden danger, and with much more speed than anyone would have excepted from   
him, he had his axe ready.   
  
His vicious attack clearly took the man by surprise, and the blade of his axe would   
surely have found its mark had not a knife hit the dwarf from behind, sinking deep   
into the flesh of his right forearm where no mail protected him. Something hard was   
smashed against his head, and he had not even the time to curse himself for not   
wearing his helmet ere everything went dark.  
  
@@@  
  
Pain filled his awareness, and as he tried to move it only worsened, a tight feeling of   
sickness forming in his stomach. He decided to keep still, trying to discern why he   
hurt and where he was. Memory did not surface through the thick fog of pain and   
when darkness came again he did not fight it, glad for the oblivion it brought.  
  
When he woke again, his head still throbbed but his mind had cleared a bit. He   
opened his eyes, but the light caused a blinding pain to shoot through him and he   
quickly closed them again. Lifting his right arm proved to be a terrible mistake and   
with a small groan of anguish, the wounded limb fell back again. It took some time   
until he found the courage and strength to try another movement, and with great   
relief he found his left arm obeyed him without protest. Shaking fingers came up to   
touch his head, finding dried blood and a very sore spot on his temple.   
  
After taking a few deep breaths and not finding anything else that hurt, Gimli finally   
dared to move himself into a sitting position. As a wave of dizziness passed over him,   
he instantly regretted making the effort but ere he could slump back, sickness   
overcame him. He barely had time to lean sideways before he lost the contents of his   
stomach. As heaves shook his frame and intensified the sharp pain in his head, he   
still found time to hope that no one was around to see him in his misery.  
  
His stomach seemed to settle again and once more he tried to open his eyes, feeling   
deeply uncomfortable at not being able to see his surroundings. He used his left   
hand to shield himself from the too bright light, and through slitted eyes he   
recognized the place as the one where he had been attacked. They had left him   
here, but a careful look around showed that they had taken all his belongings. With   
sudden urgency he searched his pockets, his left hand first reaching for the one right   
above his heart. It was empty, and a deep feeling of loss filled his heart.   
  
The blow to his pride that he had been waylaid and robbed was nothing to the one to   
his heart to find his most precious belongings taken from him.  
  
Pain turned to rage and rage gave him the strength to get to his feet, ignoring the   
darkness hovering at the edge of his vision. His horse was gone along with his   
belongings, but bitter determination filled him as he turned once more towards Minas   
Tirith. He had no food or water and would need to wait until he came across a brook   
or river to clean the wound on his arm. It had stopped bleeding but it was deep, and   
caused him much discomfort as he moved on slightly unsteady feet. Gone was the   
sure and strong stride as nausea and pain hindered him, but with the stubbornness   
of a dwarf, Gimli kept going. 


	2. Lies and Dark Thoughts

Thanks for the great feedback on the prologue – I am glad to see well known names   
again … :-)   
  
And the begging and threatening hints worked once more… the next chapter was   
quickly written and would have been posted much sooner if only I had had an internet   
connection…   
As always, thanks to Little My for beta reading!!!   
  
On with the story and let me know what you think!!!  
  
___  
  
Gimli had lost any feeling of time as he stumbled forward. His head hurt and   
sometimes his vision blurred, and he had to concentrate to focus on something. The   
feeling of nausea had remained, intensifying when he moved too quickly so he kept   
his movements slow and steady. His right arm throbbed, and as every attempt to use   
it brought little black spots dancing before his eyes he had quickly refrained from   
doing so, keeping it cradled against his side.  
  
When he finally reached a small creek, he almost passed it by. Belatedly, the soft   
rippling sound of water penetrated the fog that had settled over his mind and he   
realized its meaning. He moved his head carefully, not wishing to worsen the pain he   
already felt, and found the source of what he could hear. A few steps took him there   
and awkwardly he knelt down. He could see his reflection in the water, and the dried   
blood on his temple. It took him more strength then he would have ever thought   
possible to simply bow his head and wash his face.   
  
Sudden noise behind him brought him to his feet much faster than was wise, and for   
a moment darkness threatened to overcome him. Even though he was close to losing   
his grip on consciousness, his hand still went to his belt to grab for the handle of his   
axe that was not there.   
He desperately fought the grey veil that seemed to obscure his vision as the sound   
came closer - a rustling of leaves and something else. In the same moment he   
realised it to be the sound of hooves, a well-known silver haired horse broke through   
the undergrowth, trotting towards Gimli. She came to a stop in front of him and when   
he did nothing to acknowledge her immediately, she let out a whine and nudged him.  
The prodding at his shoulder brought Gimli out of his bewilderment and his hand   
came up to pet her without thinking. His eyes quickly took in that she still carried his   
possessions. Quite obviously they had not been able to unload their spoils before   
Selena managed to escape them. A smile grazed Gimli's lips as he thought of the   
damage an angry horse could inflict. He circled her to make sure she was not   
wounded and with relief he found nothing. A quick check assured him that his supply   
of water and food was still attached to her back. Eating was off limits for only the   
thought of it made his stomach turn, but the water skin would be surely needed.   
  
Taking a piece of cloth from one of the bags, he returned to the water to clean the   
wound on his arm. He could not get a good look at it, due to the position of the injury   
as well as his difficulty in focusing. Gritting his teeth, he tried to ignore the hot pain as   
he dabbed at the wound and removed the grime and blood as best he could. He   
knew the danger of infection and that it had already been too long until it was   
cleaned but there was naught he could do. Once more, he forced himself to his feet   
and searched his bag until he found the small pouch containing healing herbs.   
Shaking fingers undid the cord that kept it closed and removed a few leaves to apply   
them to the deep gash. Using another piece of cloth, Gimli wrapped his arm in a   
makeshift bandage, using his teeth to secure it with a knot. He could only hope that   
the herbs would ward off any infection.  
  
Getting onto Selena and riding was out of the question, for Gimli knew that he would   
not be able to endure the movements of the horse. Walking was the most he could   
take. But he stayed close to the horse as he moved on, and more than once his hand   
came up to steady himself against her solid body.  
  
@@@  
  
As they reached the camp, their mood was quite sour. One of them wore a bloody   
bandage where the dwarf's axe had grazed him. The second one was limping as he   
had not been fast enough to completely get out of the way of a horse kick. The third   
one showed a nicely swelling hand in purple and blue where said horse had   
managed to bite him. And all of this for no more than an axe and one piece of   
jewellery.  
  
They found four other men sitting around a small fire, greeting them with sneers.  
  
'What did you do, take on an army?'  
  
It would have been too embarrassing to confess what truly had happened, so one   
dwarf became ten and the small horse grew to a demonic beast. But when the   
question came up of (added "of") what the spoils had been, they could only exchange   
glances. Their reluctance to tell only stoked the other's curiosity. Dwarves were well   
known for their craftsmanship and oft they carried pieces of it with them.  
  
'Do not make such a mystery out of it,' one man taunted. 'Or I might have my doubts   
that you even saw a dwarf and did not simply get into a brawl.'   
  
Not able to resist the challenge, the one who had raided the dwarf's pockets held out   
a small piece, glittering in the sun.  
  
'This is only one piece of many we got from them,' he bragged.   
  
The small thing wandered from hand to hand, a look of envy crossing most faces. No   
one asked to see anything else, as it was quite usual to hide what had been robbed   
or stolen even from their comrades. It does no good to trust a thief, and most of these   
men were far worse than just thieves.   
  
The last one to look at it was a tall man with a hard face, and eyes that seemed to   
shine with a strange light. He took it with his left hand, holding it up to admire it. A   
strange look crossed his face and his eyes narrowed as he looked more closely. The   
small object was made of mithril and inlaid with gold, forming a beautiful design.   
Enclosed in this was a small vial, and as he turned it he could see the sparkle of   
golden hair.  
  
Realisation hit and it almost dropped from his fingers as he jumped to his feet,   
sudden agitation on his face.  
  
'You took this from a dwarf?'  
  
'Aye, I did.'  
  
'Is he dead?' The intensity of his voice and the look in his eyes took the other by   
surprise.   
  
'Uhm… I mean… aye, he is dead.'  
  
He had exchanged another quick glance with his two comrades ere he spoke, a fact   
that was missed by the questioner as his dark eyes had returned to study the small   
object in his hand.  
  
'Do you have any idea who he was?' he quietly asked. Not waiting for an answer he   
kept on talking. 'Do you know what this is?' He held the piece up to the sun once   
more, waiting until all eyes had come to stare at it.  
'It is a locket crafted to contain three strands of hair. Three strands of hair given to   
Gimli the dwarf as a gift from Galadriel, elven witch and Lady of the Woods of   
Lothlorien.'  
  
He paused, letting his words sink in and enjoying the mixture of awe and dawning   
worry on their faces.  
  
'It is said that he always carries it with him, wherever he goes.'  
  
He cast one more glance towards the three that had brought this object into their   
possession. He doubted their story very much, for he knew they would not have   
lasted against ten dwarves. Not if one of them had been Gimli son of Gloin. But the   
small token in his hand was proof that they had at least encountered him, and he   
would not have parted from it while he was still alive.  
  
A cruel smile crossed the man's face as he thought of the dwarf's death. He would   
have loved to have been the one to deliver the killing blow himself. A sudden thought   
made him raise his head and look at the three men again.  
  
'Did you see any sign of an elf accompanying him?'  
  
All three shook their heads, puzzled by this question.  
  
'The dwarf was a close friend of King Elessar of Gondor,' he spoke, and his fingers   
still played with the small object they held. They had not dared to ask it back from   
him, for even among these men he was feared.  
  
'Why should we care about the King of Gondor?' one sneered. 'This is Rohan and his   
word does not count here.'  
  
'But Eomer our king does listen to him. If word spreads that Gimli son of Gloin found   
death here they might come to hunt us.'  
  
'They have tried to find us for so long, they will not find us any easier now.'  
  
Dark eyes burned at them as he knew well that at least one would come to seek   
revenge for the death of his friend. If no one else, the elf would come.  
  
And finally he would be able to take the revenge he had dreamed about ever since   
he had been forced to leave Gondor. 


	3. Minas Tirith

Thanks for the many reviews!!! Bribes and threats as well as the   
encouragement from all of you are greatly appreciated!!!  
  
As always many thanks to Little My for beta reading!  
  
RL did not leave me much time for writing but for all of you who asked for   
a quick update a short chapter for now… more to come soon!!!  
  
So…read and let me know if you like it!  
  
___  
  
  
Gimli slowly blinked awake, disoriented for a moment ere he remembered.   
He had stopped sometime after nightfall when the dizziness and pain had   
finally won against his stubbornness.   
  
His head still pounded and as he moved into a sitting position, the   
smallest stirring caused the ache in his wounded arm to erupt in agony.   
With a groan he stilled, waiting for it to pass. His breath was coming in   
short gasps and little spots were dancing in his vision.  
  
Very carefully he got to his feet and for a moment he swayed, close to   
giving in to the darkness. But Gimli managed to stay upright and slowly   
the pain receded to a dull ache he was able to ignore.  
  
Only a short time later he was on the road again, Selena trotting next to   
him.   
  
Gimli hardly took notice of his surroundings as he concentrated fully on   
setting one foot before the other. He kept going, slowly but steadily   
making his way towards Minas Tirith.   
  
@@@  
  
The two men standing guard could make out the two figures approaching,   
but took no further notice as they were still far away. But the closer they   
came, the clearer it was that something was not right. A horse and a   
dwarf was an odd mixture to begin with but there was more to this.   
  
Dwarves were well known in Minas Tirith, for many of them had come to   
help in the rebuilding of the White City. They were hard workers and did   
not tire easily, so it was slightly disturbing to see one of them slowly   
staggering closer, obviously exhausted. Only when he was near enough   
that they could see the dried blood on his clothes did they realize the   
reason for his struggle to stay on his feet. They reacted immediately,   
calling out for help and rushing towards him.   
  
Looking up, Gimli could see the walls of Minas Tirith and two men   
approaching him. Relief washed over him for his strength had been fading   
ever more. He knew it was not the blow to his head that hindered him but   
the wound on his arm, and that he needed a healer. Judging from the   
swelling and the pain, the herbs he had used had not been sufficient to   
prevent infection. His whole body ached and his skin seemed to be on fire,   
the friction of cloth almost too much to bear. Only his stubbornness had   
brought him this far, and it stopped him even now from accepting the   
offered help. His head held high, he entered the city on his own feet,   
determined not to show weakness in front of anyone.   
  
But his body had taken as much as it could, and he had not taken more   
than a few steps when he finally lost the fight against the darkness that   
had clouded his mind and vision for hours.  
  
@@@  
  
The king of Gondor was a very tired man.  
  
His wife had given birth to their first son only weeks ago, and the joy over   
his heir had quickly been mixed with the effect of a baby sharing their life   
now. It seemed that Eldarion had inherited the elven feature of not   
needing much sleep. Not even during his time as a ranger could Aragorn   
remember ever having felt as tired as he was right now. But the sight of   
his tiny son never failed to lift his heart with pride and joy, even in the   
middle of the night. If only the little one had not such endurance when it   
came to crying.   
  
Suppressing another gigantic yawn, he turned back to his paperwork   
trying to get his sluggish mind to work.   
  
He was greatly relieved when quick footsteps neared and he found a   
reason to delay his work for a few moments longer. His voice almost   
sounded happy as he welcomed the intruder, but relief quickly turned to   
worry when he saw the grave face of the man that had entered his   
chamber and in a heartbeat he was on his feet.  
  
'What is it, is it Eldarion? Or Arwen? What is wrong?'  
  
'No, sir,' the servant quickly answered, dismayed by the king's reaction.   
'Naught is wrong with the Queen or your son; they were in the gardens   
the last time I saw them.'  
  
Letting out his breath, Aragorn sank down on his seat again, realizing his   
reaction had been slightly exaggerated. He gave the servant a weak smile.  
  
'A message has come from the House of Healing. It says that Gimli son of   
Gloin has been brought there.'  
  
The man took a quick step backwards when his words caused Aragorn to   
be back on his feet in a second. This behavior was most unusual for the   
normally calm and collected king, and it unsettled the servant.  
  
'What is it that ails him?'  
  
'I know not,' he stammered. 'The message says no more than this.'  
  
Without another word Aragorn passed him by, rushing away. Deep   
concern filled him for he considered the dwarf a good friend. His arrival   
had been expected, but not like this. He hardly took notice of the two   
guards following him when he left the palace. Despite his misgivings, he   
had gotten used to their presence wherever he went.   
  
The House of Healing was hectic when he entered and his arrival was not   
noticed immediately. He could not hear Gimli's voice and it worried him,   
for the dwarf did not like to be fussed over and would usually object loudly   
against being treated. The fact that he was here at all spoke of the   
seriousness of his condition.  
  
'Your Highness!' He had been spotted by an old woman who quickly came   
to greet him. He had no time to answer for she quickly spoke on.  
  
'It was I that sent the message to the palace, for I was the only one to   
recognize who it was that was brought in here.'   
  
She gestured towards the bed were he could see the figure of the dwarf,   
unmoving. Two healers were tending to him and obscuring Aragorn's   
sight.   
  
'How does he fare?' he asked, getting ever more worried.  
  
'Not good, I fear. He runs a high fever and has not regained consciousness   
since he was carried here. It seems he was in a fight, for as far as I could   
see he carries wounds.'  
  
Aragorn stepped closer, not wishing to disturb the healers but needing to   
see his friend. The dwarf's face was ghostly pale and the wound on his   
head could be clearly seen. But his attention was drawn to what the   
healers were working on, and apprehension filled him upon seeing the   
deep gash on Gimli's right arm. Even from a distance it looked red and   
swollen, and the signs of a severe infection filled Aragorn with dread. He   
had seen injuries like this before and knew the danger of it.  
  
He kept himself out of the way as the healers worked, waiting patiently for   
them to finish. A mug filled with a hot, sweet smelling liquid was pressed   
into his hands, and he looked in surprise at the old woman.  
  
'You look as if you could use it. A baby can be very tiring.' With these   
words she left him to return to the bedside to assist.  
  
He took a sip, noticing the taste of a strong herbal tea mixed with honey.   
For a fleeting moment he wondered if he looked as tired and worn out as   
he felt.   
  
Finally, all that was possible had been done for Gimli, and the older of the   
two healers came to greet Aragorn.   
  
'There is not much we can do for him,' he explained, although he was   
aware that the king knew as much if not more of the lore of healing than   
he did himself. 'His fever burns high and the infection is spreading. I fear   
the wound is several days old, and it was neither properly cleaned nor   
bandaged.'  
  
Aragorn stepped close to the bed, looking down at his friend. It was a   
most unusual sight to see the dwarf with his torso bare, and without cloth   
and mail covering him, he looked strangely different. Vulnerable and less   
hardy.   
  
Reaching out he touched his brow, noticing the heat there. The old woman   
had taken a seat next to the bed with a bowl of water on her knees. She   
dipped a cloth in and wrung it out, putting it on Gimli's brow as soon as   
Aragorn had withdrawn his hand.  
  
'His condition is grave,' the healer spoke again, echoing his king's   
thoughts. An infection that had spread so far was difficult to treat, and the   
outcome was uncertain.   
  
With a deep sigh, Aragorn turned to his guards who had kept themselves   
in the background, trying not to intrude.  
  
'Bring a roll of paper and ink, and our fastest rider.'  
  
A short time later he handed the written message to a young man.  
  
'I need this to be delivered to the elven realm of Ithilien, to Legolas   
Thranduilion. Take the fastest horse and make haste.'   
  
There was enough urgency in his voice to make the young man run to the   
stables. Within minutes he had left the city, leaving the guards at the gate   
wondering at his breakneck speed. 


	4. Arrival

A big Thank You to everyone who took the time to review so far… It makes me happy   
to know how many people read and enjoy my writings :-)  
  
ere drastic actions are going to be taken another update… so stay out of trees and   
away from brick walls!  
  
Thanks to Little My for beta reading!!!  
  
So… on wit the story and let me know what you think…  
  
___  
  
  
A hand on his shoulder jerked Aragorn awake and he realized he had dozed off.   
Looking up into the face of his wife, he could see a soft smile playing around her lips   
but it was tinged with sadness. His eyes darted over to the bed as memory returned,   
but there was no change in the still figure of Gimli.  
  
'Elrohir was here while you slept,' Arwen spoke softly. 'I wonder when you would   
have decided to tell me that one of our dearest friends is here?'  
  
He gently grasped her hand in his ere he answered. 'I did not wish to worry you   
overmuch. You still need your rest, and Eldarion is keeping you from it well enough.'  
  
'It is weeks ago since I gave birth and I am well recovered.'   
  
She could not help but smile at him, knowing well how deeply shaken he had been   
when he had held his son in his arms for the first time. He had not been allowed to   
stay with her through the birth, but from what Legolas had told her he had been   
greatly distressed when he had heard her cries of pain. And even now, weeks later,   
did he treat her like spun glass.  
  
'What did Elrohir say?' Aragorn asked. He knew better than to start a discussion with   
Arwen while his mind was still drowsy. It was hard enough to keep up with her when   
he was wide-awake.   
  
'Nothing you would not know already,' she sighed and the sadness was back in her   
eyes. 'There is naught we can do but wait.' She hesitated for a moment ere she   
voiced the question that had been burning on her mind, ever since she had come to   
know that Gimli was here.  
  
'Do you not think it would be wise to let Legolas know of Gimli's condition? I fear he   
would be most enraged should things turn ill and he was not even informed.'   
  
'I sent a messenger to Ithilien and knowing Legolas, he will be here ere tomorrow has   
passed.'  
  
Aragorn had turned his attention fully on Gimli with his last words, his fingers   
touching his brow. The dwarf's face was ashen, but for the first time he showed some   
kind of reaction as he moved his head the slightest bit to escape the cool fingers that   
felt like ice against his burning skin.   
  
'Gimli?'  
  
A soft moan and another tiny movement of the dwarf's head was his only answer.   
The old woman still seated next to the bed handed the cool cloth to Aragorn. Gently   
calling out to his friend, the man placed it upon Gimli's brow. It evoked another moan,   
and this time the evasive movement was stronger as the dwarf succeeded in   
displacing the painfully cool object.   
  
Aragorn tried to calm the increasingly agitated dwarf, noticing quickly that he tried to   
squirm away from his touch. He withdrew his hand, calling Gimli's name.  
  
No longer assaulted by the painful touch he became still again, at first showing no   
reaction. Then, slowly his eyelids fluttered and obeying the insistent voice calling his   
name over and over again, Gimli reluctantly opened his eyes.   
  
There was no recognition in his glance, only confusion and the glaze of fever.   
  
'Gimli?'  
  
He blinked once more and moved again, causing a sharp wave of agony to flow   
through his body. A pain-filled moan escaped him once more, and his eyes drifted   
shut as he gave up his hold on consciousness.  
  
Arwen quietly watched as hope turned to disappointment and worry upon her   
husband's features. He removed the bandage from Gimli's arm, inspecting the wound   
once more. She had seen Elrohir do exactly the same not long ago so she knew   
what to except. The look of dismay on Aragorn's face only confirmed what she   
already knew.  
  
'It is not getting better,' he sighed. He could see the wound had been recently tended   
to so he simply wrapped it again. 'His fever is even higher than before.'  
  
He paused, looking down at his friend and in this moment, she knew exactly what he   
was thinking and her hand came up to caress his cheek.   
  
'We will wait and see,' she spoke, her voice reassuring him. There was still hope.  
  
@@@  
  
Hours had passed and things had only gotten worse. Arwen had returned to the   
palace and Aragorn had stayed at his friend's side, watching for any change in his   
condition. But Gimli's fever had climbed higher and higher, and he no longer   
remained still. He fought anyone who would try to touch him, oblivious to where he   
was and what was going on. Tending to him became a battle where the dwarf had to   
be restrained to prevent him doing injury to himself or anyone else. Aragorn had   
relieved the healers from their duty, taking over to care for his friend himself. The old   
woman refused to leave, and her quiet help was greatly appreciated. She brought tea   
and food not only for Aragorn but also the two guards that still stood watch over their   
king.   
  
Night fell and with it Aragorn's hopes started to fade. For hours Gimli had tossed and   
turned on the bed, mumbling in his own tongue. Sometimes he would cry out and all   
the man's tries to calm him seemed to have no effect at all.   
  
Midnight passed and weariness settled over the king, a deep exhaustion born of lack   
of sleep and hope. He was alone in the room now as the old woman had finally   
retired. Almost with relief he heard the soft rustling of clothes, the only sound that   
betrayed an elf's entering the room. Looking up, he gave a tired smile.  
  
'You look terrible,' Elrohir commented. His eyes turned on the restless dwarf who   
once more was tossing and moaning. 'He fares no better?'  
  
'Nay,' Aragorn answered, his voice heavy with concern. He tried to calm the dwarf,   
but once more he jerked away from any touch. Elrohir reached out, his long hand   
coming to rest on the dwarf's chest. To Aragorn's deep surprise, Gimli did not fight   
the elf's touch but turned his head towards him. For a moment his eyes fluttered   
open.  
  
'Legolas?'  
  
His voice was a croaked whisper and his eyes closed again, the short flicker of   
awareness gone immediately. Deep compassion shone in Elrohir's eyes as he looked   
at the suddenly still form.  
  
'His fever is too high. He cannot fight this much longer,' he spoke, his gaze turning to   
Aragorn.  
  
'I know.'   
  
'Then you also know there is only one thing left to do to save him?'  
  
Aragorn rose, the distress he felt clearly visible on his face.  
  
'It is not an option I wish to turn to. Not as long as there is still hope.'  
  
'If you wait too long, nothing will be able to save him anymore,' the elf warned. 'There   
is still strength left in him but the longer the fever burns, the weaker he will grow.'  
  
'I sent a messenger to Ithilien.'  
  
'Arwen told me so. But Legolas' mere presence here will not cause a miracle to   
happen.'  
  
The man sighed, his heart heavy with the choice he knew he had to make.  
  
'He is a dwarf, Elrohir. A warrior as much as a gifted craftsman. I know not if he   
would wish to live if it means losing his arm.'   
  
The elf did not respond to this, knowing it to be true. He settled down in the place the   
old woman had held for so long, joining Aragorn in his silent watch.  
  
  
@@@  
  
Dawn had come a few hours ago, when a small whirlwind could be seen rushing   
towards Minas Tirith. The guards at the gate watched with amazement as it   
transformed into the form of a horse and rider, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake   
as they came closer. As they made no signs of slowing their speed, weapons were   
raised as their intent was not known.   
  
Golden hair gleamed and one of the guards lowered his bow, crying out, 'This is   
Legolas the elf. He is a friend.'   
  
His words halted the arrow readied on his companion's bow ere it could be fired.   
Without a word the rider passed them by, unaware or not caring of the danger he had   
been in. He slowed his horse just enough so that it would not stumble, as they   
rushed through the streets towards the palace.  
  
Forcing his horse to an abrupt stop, Legolas dismounted in one graceful move. A   
servant came to take the horse and ignoring the man's words of greeting, he asked   
harshly, 'Gimli the dwarf is here?'  
  
Ere he could answer a melodious voice called out. 'Well met, Legolas my friend. That   
was an amazing show of riding skill.'   
  
Turning around, he found no smile to greet Elladan.   
  
The son of Elrond had been keeping watch, knowing Legolas would arrive soon and   
he had made out the rider long before mortal eyes. The blond elf seemed calm and   
composed, his tousled hair the only evidence of the haste he had made in coming   
here. But his eyes showed the fear that had driven him.  
  
'He has been brought to the House of Healing,' he answered Legolas' earlier   
question, and had to make haste in following him when he turned and left without a   
moments hesitation.   
  
'Take good care of my horse, and water and feed him well,' Legolas called back to   
the servant ere he disappeared from sight. Elladan caught up with him and walked at   
his side.  
  
'How does he fare?'  
  
He wished he could say something to ease the deep fear he could feel in his friend,   
but there was no way to soften the truth.  
  
'Not good, I fear.'  
  
With a grim nod, Legolas managed to speed up even more but spoke no further. 


	5. Fever

A great thank you for the many reviews I received for the last chapter!!!   
  
Your encouragement keeps me going (not to mention the many threats of drastic   
actions).  
So here is the next part… so keep away from longbows, longknives, ropes, trees,   
brick walls, cliffs, high-ropes course at the park and other dangerous things (I must   
confess your inventiveness is starting to scare me)… please! … but keep on sending   
me reviews... I love them!!! :-))))  
  
So… on with the story… and tell me if you like it :-)  
  
As always, a special thank you to Little My for beta reading!  
___  
  
It had been late at night when the messenger from Minas Tirith entered Northern   
Ithilien, and Legolas had been informed immediately of the man's arrival. Aragorn's   
message was short, but it had planted a deep fear into his heart. He had bid the   
messenger to stay and rest, as both man and horse looked in dire need of it.   
  
Within ten minutes after reading the message Legolas had been ready to leave, and   
ignoring the offers of companionship from his fellow elves he had set out. Arod had   
run like never before, as if feeling the urgency of his master.   
  
Arriving in Minas Tirith, Legolas was not surprised to see Elladan - he had known the   
twin sons of Elrond to dwell here ever since Arwen's son was born. But he had no   
energy left to greet his friend of old while concern gnawed at his insides. Gimli was   
dear to him and he feared the worst for his friend. Elladan's answer to his question   
did naught to ease his mind, and he made his way to the House of Healing in silence.   
  
The room was filled with soft moans and the sound of struggles and Legolas froze,   
his eyes taking in the scene before him.   
  
Aragorn had a strong grip on Gimli's shoulder, holding the bucking dwarf down.   
Elrohir was cleaning the wound on his arm again, and the smell of herbs, pus and   
blood filled the room. Gimli's eyes were open and for a moment it seemed as if he   
looked right at Legolas. The elf took a step forward, his heart lifting, only to realize   
the feverish glaze in the dark eyes. Gimli was far from recognizing anyone, as he   
moaned once more and tried to escape the strong grip that held him down.   
  
Looking up, Aragorn took in the tall form of Legolas and could feel an immense relief.   
The elf's face betrayed nothing as he stepped closer. A short nod was all the greeting   
that Aragorn received, but in this moment he did not mind. Legolas' hands came to   
rest on Gimli's chest, gently pressing the dwarf down. He murmured something in a   
soothing voice and it took a few moments for Aragorn to register what it was that   
seemed wrong. It was not the Common Speech Legolas used, nor the tongue of his   
own people. It was a strange thing to hear the elven voice speak words in the   
language of the dwarves.  
  
But the familiar words and the trusted voice finally succeeded in what Aragorn and   
Elrohir had not been able to achieve: Gimli ceased his struggles and for the tiniest   
moment there was a flicker in his eyes as if he was fighting for awareness. But it   
passed quickly and only the fever induced confusion remained.   
  
Elrohir had finished and once more he wrapped the arm in a clean cloth. His eyes   
met Aragorn's and he gave a small shake of his head. There was no improvement.  
  
'His fever is high. How long has he been like this?' Legolas' soft voice broke their   
silent communication.  
  
'Too long,' Elrohir commented under his breath, but ere his words could be   
questioned Aragorn spoke up.   
  
'His fever has been rising ever since he came here and that was almost one day ago.   
His strength is fading, and all our efforts so far have shown no effect.'  
  
For a moment there was a flicker of something in Legolas' eyes that belied his calm   
façade. But his voice was controlled as he asked, 'Seldom have I seen a wound like   
this, and I know naught of how to treat it. But there has to be something that can be   
done.'  
  
Elrohir kept silent. Infection of a wound happened seldom in elves due to their   
healing abilities, and when it did occur it hardly ever took on such a dramatic form.   
But he knew it to be a common and feared thing among men.  
  
'When Gimli arrived here, the infection had already fully flared up. Its poison mingles   
with his blood and will kill him if we do not remove the source of it.'  
  
But herbs and regular cleaning had taken no effect as of yet.   
  
Gimli moaned and Legolas' hand moved from the dwarf's chest to his left arm, gently   
squeezing in a reassuring gesture. His soft voice once more calmed his friend, but   
while he murmured soothing words his own mind raced. He had seen many wounds   
and much healing in his long life, for Mirkwood had not been a safe place in which to   
live. But his knowledge of mortals was limited, as he had seldom come into contact   
with them before he had been chosen to join the Fellowship of the Ring. He knew   
Aragorn to be a gifted healer, but something in his voice spoke of defeat.   
  
'What can be done?' he asked again when Gimli had calmed.  
  
There was great hesitation in Aragorn's voice when he answered. 'The infection   
cannot be allowed to spread any further. If herbs and healing powers fail, there is   
only one thing left to do.'  
  
The man's look had turned away from Legolas and came to rest on Gimli's wounded   
arm. The elf's eyes followed his gaze, taking in once more the swollen limb, the angry   
red of the dwarf's skin where it was not covered by a bandage. The meaning of the   
words sank in, and an expression of horror crossed Legolas' face.  
  
'Nay!' he exclaimed, and his fingers on Gimli's arm tightened unconsciously, evoking   
a small groan of protest from the dwarf. He loosened his grip quickly and after seeing   
no further distress on his friend's face, turned his head to look at Aragorn once more.   
The man cringed inwardly at the fear in the elf's eyes.  
  
'There has to be another way!'  
  
But his gaze flickering between Elrohir and Aragorn could find naught but bitter   
resignation. There was nothing else that could be done.  
  
'You know not of what you speak,' Legolas whispered. 'This will not save him but kill   
him as surely as the wound itself.'   
  
Silence answered him, and he could read in their faces that they knew this to be true.   
  
'There is still hope. The infection may still abate,' Legolas spoke, his eyes flashing.   
'We will not think of this ere there is no other way.'  
  
'Legolas…'  
  
'Nay, Aragorn, I can still feel strength in him. Gimli is still fighting, and we will not   
abandon him too early.'  
  
The man fell silent, his eyes meeting Elrohir's. The elf gave a small shrug. It was   
Elladan, having not moved from his place at the entrance until now, who spoke up.  
  
'The dwarf's strength is not to be underestimated, as well as his stubbornness. But if   
things should go ill we will need you awake, and not half-asleep and sluggish from   
exhaustion. You should go and get rest, Aragorn. We will keep Legolas company in   
looking after Gimli.'  
  
The man found no words of protest although he was reluctant to leave Gimli in such   
an uncertain condition. He met Legolas' gaze once more, and seeing the   
determination there he suddenly realized that this was no longer his fight. The elf   
turned away from him as Gimli stirred once more, bringing to an end his short period   
of calmness. As he left the room, he could hear the dwarf's fever induced rambling   
mingling with the silver tone of the elf's soothing words.   
  
@@@  
  
Elladan balanced the bowl with cold water as well as a pile of clean cloths in his   
hands when he entered the room again. Gimli's fever was dangerously high and the   
only way to keep his temperature down was to constantly cool his heated skin.   
Aragorn's gift of healing was strong and he had been able to keep the dwarf alive,   
but the infection was too far gone even for his powers to heal him.   
  
Of all of Elrond's children it was Elrohir who had inherited their father's gift of healing   
the strongest, but being an elf he was reluctant to use it on Gimli. The way of healing   
between elves was more a sharing of their life force and strength, and to do it for a   
mortal would pose great danger to both of them. It would cost more strength to heal a   
dwarf, and where an elf would never take more than could be offered by a healer,   
there was no such restraint with mortals. Too great was the risk of being overly   
drained, and it could go ill for the both of them. Only Elrond had ever dared sharing   
his gift with mortals, and even then his own powers had been aided by the ring he   
wore.   
  
Elladan knew well the internal conflict his brother had fought during the past hours,   
but both knew Gimli's condition was much too grave for the elf to try anything.   
Fearing he might still decide to take the risk, Elladan had sent Elrohir to look after   
Arwen and her son, hoping she would calm his distraught mind.   
  
Setting down the bowl, Elladan's eyes fell on Legolas and he could not suppress a   
strong feeling of unease. The golden haired elf was sitting on the bed, his hands   
clasping Gimli's. His head was bowed and his eyes closed as if listening closely to   
something only he could hear. Even from a few feet away Elladan could feel the   
strong hold Legolas' mind had on Gimli, as if offering his own strength to the dwarf.   
He knew Legolas' mother to be a great healer, and surely her son had inherited   
some small measure of her gift. But he was not trained in using it, and what he was   
doing now was no more than a clumsy try in using powers he had never learned how   
to wield.  
  
A cold grip clenched Elladan's heart as he realized that if Legolas possessed   
Elrohir's ability, he would not have hesitated a moment to risk using it.   
  
He dipped a cloth into the cold water, wringing it out and placing it on the dwarf's   
brow once more. It evoked a whimper of protest and a soft stirring that broke Legolas'   
concentration, to Elladan's great relief. He used another drenched cloth to rub down   
Gimli's torso, feeling the heat emanating from the dwarf. Legolas' hands restrained   
Gimli's arms as he fought them, his feverish brain not understanding what it was that   
caused the sensation of pain whenever his burning skin was touched. He whimpered   
in pain when his wounded arm protested the movement and suddenly went limp   
again, his strength spent. His breathing was harsh but he fought no more even when   
Legolas joined Elladan in his task, only moans of pain occasionally escaping him.  
  
Casting a short look at the golden haired elf, Elladan could see the compassion and   
fear in his eyes and wondered how much longer he would be able to maintain his   
calm façade. 


	6. A desperate Try

Wow, the number of reviews is encouraging…   
…the threat of drastic actions hanging in the air even more :-)  
  
A big thank you to all of you who take the time to let me know what you think!!! And a   
very special thanks to those of you who do it for each chapter… :-)  
  
And something I forgot to clear up : To Gwyndolen Rhionne: Greenleaf is the   
translation of the elven word Legolas.   
The word 'ion' means 'son', so Thandruilion would mean 'son of Thranduil' – just to   
clear up a misunderstanding :-) … and thanks for your regular reviewing :-)  
  
So for all of you asking for more – the next chapter…  
  
And let me know what you think!!!  
  
___  
  
Aragorn was still tired but no longer so deeply exhausted when he entered the House   
of Healing again. He found the room quiet; Elladan sitting next to Gimli, bathing him   
with a wet cloth. Legolas stood at the wide-open window, a cup filled with water in his   
hands. He seemed deep in thought, but only a few heartbeats later he turned to face   
Aragorn. His face was darkened with emotions the man found difficult to read.   
Concern was there as well as fear, but also anger and something else.   
  
'Who did this to him, Aragorn?' the elf asked, and his voice carried a tone of   
command and determination. Aragorn would have bristled at anyone else speaking   
to him like this. Coming from Legolas, he chose to ignore it.  
  
'I know not, my friend. When he arrived here he was in no state to tell us anything.'  
  
He could see disappointment flickering over Legolas' features, and the elf put down   
the cup with slightly more force than necessary.  
  
'Who would dare to attack him? He is a known friend of Gondor.'  
  
Aragorn met his eyes squarely, not backing down from the elf whose eyes betrayed   
how enraged he truly was.  
  
'This has not stopped them before,' Elladan voiced what the man had been thinking.  
  
For a moment Legolas froze, then he turned and looked out of the window again.   
They all remembered the incident shortly after Aragorn's wedding, it had been men of   
Gondor who had turned on the elf. It was a bitter memory for Legolas, whose trust in   
men had been deeply shaken then. He closed his eyes in pain as he remembered   
Gimli's quiet concern and not so quiet demand for revenge. With a shaky breath, he   
turned again to retake his place at his friend's side.  
  
'I would not think this was an attempt on his life but that he was simply waylaid and   
robbed, if not for the fact that Selena was still with him,' Aragorn offered. 'Surely no   
robber would leave the horse behind and everything it carried.' He gestured at Gimli's   
belongings that had been brought in and left in a corner of the room.   
  
'I already searched his belongings and it is a most peculiar thing that the small pouch   
with gold and gems he always carries with him is still here, while the one thing most   
precious to him is missing.'  
  
A frown appeared on Aragorn's face as he realized what it was Legolas spoke about.  
  
'It is a beautiful thing, but for someone who is not aware of its meaning a piece of   
gold would have more worth. So I wonder why someone would take this but leave his   
other belongings,' the elf mused.   
  
'So you think this was no mere robbery?'  
  
The elf shook his head and confusion tinged his voice.  
  
'If it was an attempt on his life, then why did they not make sure he was dead? His   
wounds were not severe.'  
  
Legolas sighed and for a moment he seemed weary.  
  
'I know not what to make of this. It seems the only one to tell us is Gimli himself.'  
  
His eyes turned back to his friend once more and Aragorn could see the pain in his   
eyes.  
  
'Selena is very attached to him. Maybe she escaped and found her way back to him,'   
Elladan spoke up once more. Aragorn considered his words as he stepped closer to   
the dwarf.   
  
'Has he woken?'  
  
'Several times. But he never was aware of his surroundings.'   
  
Defeat showed in Elladan's voice and Legolas shot him a sharp look.   
  
'His fever has not risen any further,' he told Aragorn.   
  
The man only nodded, his fingers busy in removing the bandage once more. The   
wound was still festering and the arm was swollen. He could see no improvement   
and it showed on his features.   
  
Legolas watched in silence, his heart clenching. He knew Gimli's condition was   
grave, but refused to see that it was deteriorating.   
  
@@@  
  
Aragorn had left to get fresh herbs and to talk to Elrohir. Discussing Gimli's state with   
Legolas was useless, for the elf refused to acknowledge that time was running out.   
Elladan left shortly after him, needing to get out of the room for a while.   
  
Legolas stayed behind and, alone with his friend for once, he took hold of Gimli's   
hands. He closed his eyes and tried to reach out, to feel his friend's presence. He   
would never admit it aloud, but he could feel him fading and it frightened him. He tried   
to offer his own strength, to use the weak gift of healing he knew he possessed,   
wishing he had learned how to do it.   
  
Gimli was still, his ashen complexion showing clearly the sickness of his body. He did   
not stir at the touch.  
  
When Elladan returned, he found Legolas once more in deep concentration and   
loathing to disturb him, he silently took a seat. He wondered if Legolas was aware of   
what a great risk he was taking here. For one untrained in using the power of healing,   
things could go terribly wrong. It was always a risk to open oneself in this way, but   
not knowing how to close oneself up again if need be could prove fatal.   
Footsteps brought him out of his thoughts ere he could come to a decision of what to   
do. With relief, he saw Aragorn and his brother entering the room.  
  
One look was enough for both of them to understand what Legolas was doing.  
  
'Legolas!' Elrohir cried out, reaching out to grasp the elf's shoulder. A strong hand   
stopped his movement and he turned on Aragorn in anger.  
  
'This is folly! He knows not what he is doing!'  
  
'I think he knows very well,' the man spoke calmly. 'Breaking them up like this could   
be more of a risk than letting him continue.'  
  
Narrowing his eyes, Elrohir once more took a long look at the two still figures. He had   
to admit that Aragorn was right. More out of instinct than knowledge, Legolas had   
managed to build a connection to the dwarf and his hold on him was strong. Breaking   
them up could have devastating consequences.  
  
'If the dwarf dies,' he hissed, 'he will take Legolas with him.'  
  
'Then we must not let him die,' Elladan's soft voice sounded and the twins exchanged   
a long glance.   
  
With a deep sigh Elrohir stepped close to Legolas, his hands lightly coming to rest   
upon the other elf's shoulders. He did not react to the touch, deeply immersed in his   
own mind.   
  
Elrohir closed his eyes and took one deep breath ere he opened himself, reaching   
out. He could feel Legolas, and his surprise as he touched his mind. Then he went   
further, following the connection Legolas had built until he came into contact with the   
weak presence he held onto.   
  
Elladan's face held a mixture of fear and hope as he watched his twin. He could feel   
Elrohir's concentration and power, susceptible as he was to his brother's feelings.   
Aragorn moved to stand next to him. In silence they waited.  
  
It was a strange thing to watch and not know exactly what was going on. For all his   
knowledge of elves, Aragorn could still not fully understand the way their minds   
worked. He knew why Elrohir had not offered his healing powers to help Gimli before,   
and had not even considered asking him to do so. Neither had Legolas, but now the   
stubborn son of Thranduil had chosen to take matters into his own hands instead.   
Aragorn did not doubt that what Elrohir had said was true – should Gimli die he would   
take Legolas with him – but he wondered what was going on now. Did Elrohir only   
call Legolas back or had he chosen to take the risk in attempting to heal Gimli? He   
would have asked Elladan had he not feared to break the silence.  
  
Fear held Elladan's heart for he knew exactly the great risk his brother was taking.   
This was more than simply calling out to Legolas as he had selfishly hoped. It was an   
attempt to use the connection between the two to offer his own strength. Both elves   
together might succeed in healing Gimli, but only if there was still strength enough for   
the dwarf to take what was offered and fight.   
  
Elrohir's last words were still ringing in his ears. Should Gimli die, the chance was   
high that he would take both of them with him, for the death of a mortal is too great a   
thing to be thwarted by the powers of the elves. 


	7. Healing

Wow, 19 reviews for the last chapter! That makes at least 19 people waiting for more   
:-)  
A great thank you to all of you… I am happy to know so many people like what I   
write…  
  
For those of you who are already dressed in traveling gear with weapons ready (you   
know who I am talking to?), do not fear :-) …action is coming soon… I think… if the   
characters cooperate…   
  
Thanks to Little My for beta reading!  
  
So, as requested another chapter… and do not hesitate to let me know if you like it!  
  
___  
  
Touching the weak presence of the dwarf, Elrohir recoiled at the unfamiliar tumble of   
feelings and pain. The pull was too strong - too dangerous it was for him to keep in   
touch with Gimli, so he retreated until the only other presence he could feel was   
Legolas. Instead of trying to build his own connection with the dwarf, he offered his   
support to the elf, feeling how much he was already drained. He kept a tight control   
on himself, only giving as much as he dared as he could feel any strength Legolas   
received from him being sucked away immediately.   
  
Feeling the short flare of fear in his twin as he recoiled mentally from touching Gimli,   
Elladan took a step forward, his own eyes widening. He would have interfered and   
called his brother back, if he had not sensed him calming again. Letting out the   
breath he was holding, he relaxed.   
  
Not knowing what had happened, Aragorn's eyes wandered between the elves until   
he finally whispered, 'What is happening, Elladan?'  
  
'I cannot tell exactly. It seems that Elrohir is supporting Legolas now. He tried to   
reach the dwarf but something stopped him,' the dark haired elf answered in a low   
voice that barely reached the man's ears.  
  
There was naught they could do but stand by and wait, and it was a hard experience   
for both of them. Elladan's anxious eyes never left his brother, fearful of missing any   
indication that he might require his help. Aragorn stood for a long time, watching the   
silent scene until he could remain still no longer. He moved silently through the room   
with all the suppleness of the ranger he once was. Without a sound he collected   
some things together, preparing fresh ointment for Gimli's wound as well as a   
strengthening concoction, knowing the elves would be in need of it.  
  
Elrohir could feel Legolas weakening, the support he himself could offer no longer   
enough. Gimli had grown stronger, and for the first time he dared to hope that   
Legolas' desperate try to save him might indeed be successful. Gently, he coaxed   
the other elf to relinquish his hold on the dwarf. It was not easy but finally Legolas   
relented, trying to close the connection. But it was no longer one sided as Gimli held   
on desperately, refusing to let go of his hold. It was a struggle Legolas was too weak   
and untrained to win.  
  
Elrohir could feel him losing and drawing on his last reserves he interfered, breaking   
Gimli's grip on Legolas. For a long moment he feared he would not be able to   
separate them but then he succeeded, sensing the shock in both at the sudden loss   
of contact. But he concentrated on the elf for the moment, gently leading Legolas   
back to awareness.  
  
Great relief filled Elladan upon seeing Elrohir's eyes blink open. He moved to his   
brother's side quicker than a mortal eye could follow, supporting him with an arm   
around his shoulder. Aragorn was there a moment later, offering a cup of the   
concoction he had brewed. Leaving the brothers to themselves, he turned to Legolas   
who had slumped in his seat. He gingerly touched his shoulder and was rewarded   
with a look from under heavy eyelids, as the elf felt too drained to even lift his head.  
  
Legolas could feel Aragorn's gentle touch and the strong smell of athelas filled his   
nostrils. After taking a few deep breaths, the overwhelming weakness receded and   
he found the strength to move himself into a sitting position, not minding the strong   
hand supporting him. He accepted the cup filled with a hot liquid without questioning   
and sipped at it. As his mind slowly cleared, his gaze turned to the still figure lying in   
the bed in front of him. Hope and fear shone in his eyes as Aragorn moved away   
from him to check on Gimli.  
  
The bandage was removed carefully and although the wound it revealed was still   
ugly looking, there was an improvement. The attempt on healing Gimli had taken little   
more than an hour but the effect was stunning. The festering wound had cleared up,   
and the swelling had gone down a bit. The dwarf's temperature was still high, but no   
longer the raging fever he had fallen into.  
  
Meeting Legolas' eyes Aragorn could not help but smile, the newfound hope clearly   
visible upon his features. An answering smile broke out on Legolas' face, only to fade   
quickly as an angry voice spoke up behind him.  
  
'Do you even begin to understand what a foolish thing this was to do?'  
  
Still holding the cup in his long fingers, Legolas turned to face Elrohir.   
  
'How can you be so foolish as to try and wield powers you know nothing about? It is   
dangerous enough to use them on a mortal if one is fully trained. But did you think I   
hesitated to use them out of spite?'  
  
The usually calm and soft-spoken elf was truly enraged, and even the calming hand   
of his brother on his arm did nothing to ease his temper.  
  
'I thought you to be more sensible, son of Thranduil,' he spat.  
  
Legolas felt much too exhausted to find words of defense, especially as he knew   
Elrohir to be justified. He had not asked for his aid but had clearly required it, and in   
helping him the other elf had taken a great risk.   
  
'I know well why you chose not to use your gift of healing before, and I am truly sorry   
for endangering you like this,' he simply answered. 'But I could not let this small   
chance pass without at least attempting to use it. And I thank you deeply for your   
help.'   
  
His voice and the bleak look in his eyes showed the strain he had been under. His   
quiet demeanor appeased the anger born of fear and exhaustion.  
  
'I hope it was worth the risk,' Elrohir stated, his voice calmer now.  
  
'It seems that Gimli knows well to use the strength given to him,' Aragorn spoke up.   
All eyes turned on him and he smiled, glad to feel the tensions in the room ease.   
  
Once more they cleaned the dwarf's wound thoroughly, applying the ointment and   
bandaging his arm. It was then, when nothing else could be done but wait once   
more, that Elladan took his brother's arm and dragged him out of the room. He said it   
was to look for Arwen and tell her that there was hope once more, but everyone knew   
the true reason. Elrohir was exhausted and needed to rest.  
  
Ere he left the room, one last pointed look was directed at Legolas and he told   
Aragorn in a firm voice, 'He must not try anything like this again.'  
  
The look Elrohir received from the man told him he would take care of it.  
  
Legolas had not left his place at Gimli's side, and Aragorn's suggestion that he   
should take some rest himself was ignored. With a shake of his head, the man   
watched him closely for a while, seeing the signs of fatigue in his friend.   
  
'There is naught you can do, Legolas,' he reprimanded the stubborn elf. 'You will   
need your strength when he wakes, for you know how hard it will be to keep him here   
as soon as he is able to stand.'  
  
A soft laugh escaped Legolas, and for the first time since he had arrived he seemed   
to relax a bit.  
  
'True words, Aragorn, for he will not accept that he might need help of any kind. A   
dwarf never falls sick and injuries cannot hinder him.'  
  
'And it will fall to you to convince him otherwise. I would not know of anyone else who   
would dare to contradict him.'  
  
Their eyes locked, and for a moment a battle of wills took place. It was Legolas who   
averted his gaze. He could feel exhaustion as he had never experienced it before, as   
if all his inner strength was gone. He felt empty and drained, and only his deep   
concern for his friend had kept him going until now. But knowing Gimli was, if still far   
from well, at least doing better for the moment, he was losing the battle against his   
body's demand for recovery.  
  
'Very well,' he spoke softly. 'I will rest.'  
  
With that he leaned back in his seat and let his chin drop to his chest. Ere Aragorn   
could protest that this was not exactly what he had envisioned, his eyes closed as he   
sank into a deep sleep. The man closed his mouth again, shaking his head in   
exasperation. 


	8. Waking

Thank you for the many reviews…I am sorry but I could not update any sooner… I   
am on a business trip right now and it is hard to find the time for writing…  
  
But a short chapter for now…  
  
Let me know if you like it and I will try to post again soon!!!  
  
___  
  
The well-known smell of athelas was the first thing that registered in Gimli's mind. He   
could feel the soft material of blankets against his skin and realized he was resting in   
a bed. Searching his memory, he could dimly recall reaching Minas Tirith, entering   
the city through the gate. Anything else was a blur, snatches of memories mixed   
together that made no sense. Blinking open his eyes, he half excepted the nausea to   
return. But to his great relief his stomach stayed where it was.   
  
He needed to blink several times until moisture returned to his eyes and he could   
focus on his surroundings. The first thing he saw was Legolas, slumped in a seat   
next to him, his eyes closed.   
  
Gimli knew a moment of alarm, the sudden keen wave of fear cutting through him   
upon seeing the elf in such an unusual position. The only explanation for this was   
that he was hurt somehow.   
  
Without thinking Gimli tried to sit up, and only when he used his wounded arm to   
place part of his weight on it did he remember the injury. A small cry escaped him at   
the unexpected pain and he fell back. Even through the haze of pain he noticed that   
Legolas had not stirred, and it scared him greatly.  
  
Then a hand came to rest on his unwounded arm.  
  
'Calm down, master dwarf. I did not think even you would make such haste in getting   
out of here.'   
  
Gimli turned his head to look at Aragorn, feeling strangely appeased at seeing him.   
He did not protest when the man removed the bandage covering his right arm, but   
craned his neck to see for himself. The wound looked ugly but was healing already,   
and he wondered how long he had been here. Then his eyes returned to the   
disturbingly still form of the elf.  
  
'What did the elf do that he sleeps so soundly?' he asked, shocked at hearing the   
raspy sound of his own voice. Aragorn did not answer but offered him a cup of water,   
the cold liquid refreshing Gimli's dry throat.   
  
The man returned to his task, and only after he had finished bandaging the arm once   
more did he look at Gimli again. He smiled at his friend and the dwarf could see the   
genuine relief in his eyes.  
  
'I dare say you gave us quite a fright, my friend,' Aragorn spoke.  
  
'A dwarf is not so easy to kill.' Gimli dismissed the concern he had caused, his usual   
pride back in place.   
  
The man refrained from telling him what exactly it had been that had saved his life.  
  
'But it seems once more that elves lack the endurance of the dwarves,' Gimli   
commented with a sidelong glance at Legolas. Aragorn could not miss the question   
in his eyes.  
  
'He rode hard to come here quickly,' he said simply.   
  
Doubt remained in Gimli, for he knew Ithilien to be not so far away that riding to   
Minas Tirith could exhaust the elf like this. For exhausted he had to be, to sleep with   
his eyes closed and not be wakened by their voices.  
  
But ere Gimli could voice another question, Legolas stirred and dark eyes opened to   
focus on him. Confusion and recognition passed through them and then they   
widened in sudden joy. The elf's movement was quick as he sat up and a smile   
brightened his features.  
  
'Gimli!' he cried, 'You are awake?'  
  
'Obviously,' the dwarf grumbled back, touched by the open display of emotion on his   
friend's face. 'And longer than you, I might observe.'  
  
The elf laughed, a sound of happiness no mortal could resist, and both man and   
dwarf could feel their own hearts lift at the merry tone.  
  
'Only because you were already asleep when I came here. At least I managed to   
make my way to this room on my own two feet.'  
  
'It would be hard to find anyone who would carry you,' Gimli shot back, his pride   
slightly ruffled.  
  
'I meant no offense, my friend.' Legolas' face darkened a bit. 'Your wounds had taken   
a bad turn; did no one ever tell you to clean them properly?'  
  
Ere Gimli could respond to this, Aragorn interfered.  
  
'You should save your strength, master dwarf, for your wounds still require some   
healing. Do you feel like eating something?'  
  
The weakness he could feel in his body, as well as the barely hidden concern lurking   
in both of his friend's eyes, convinced Gimli he had indeed given them quite a scare.   
The mentioning of food was enough to wake his stomach, and the loud growl gave   
an answer ere he could form words.  
  
With a laugh, Legolas rose.  
  
'It seems he does feel like it, Aragorn. I will go and get something.'  
  
The elf disappeared and Aragorn turned his full attention on Gimli, testing the dwarf's   
reactions to ensure he had suffered no lasting damage from the head wound.   
Satisfied at finding naught wrong, he spoke.  
  
'It seems that the heads of dwarves are quite hard, my friend.'  
  
'Aye, that is what I always say.' Meeting Gimli's sharp look with feigned innocence,   
Legolas motioned the servant that had followed him to enter the room. The woman   
carried a tray with food and wine, and placed it on the table close to Gimli's bed.  
Bowing she left again, but her quick eyes had taken in the awakened dwarf and news   
of his condition would travel fast through the city of Minas Tirith.  
  
@@@  
  
With a deep sigh Aragorn sat down, deeply grateful for the peaceful quiet of his   
chambers. Ever since Gimli had woken, he had had a hard time in keeping his friends   
under control. Legolas had questioned the dwarf several times, pressing him for all   
he remembered of his attackers until the dwarf had yelled at him in frustration. After   
that Aragorn had to hold the elf back from going after them immediately, succeeding   
only when it became obvious that Gimli would not be left behind. The dwarf had   
already been half on his way out of the House of Healing ere Elladan caught up with   
him.   
  
Only concern for his friend's well being had convinced Legolas to stay when the   
dwarf made it clear, and quite loudly so, that he would accompany him on this quest.   
After all, he was the one who had been ambushed and robbed.   
  
Gimli was recovering fast and Aragorn could not deny that he looked forward to the   
moment the dwarf would be allowed to leave. He was not an easy patient, and   
Legolas did nothing to ease the situation. 


	9. A Conversation

Hello everybody! I am back in town :-)…  
It was a great thing to return home and find all these reviews waiting for me, even   
some for my older stories… thanks to all of you!  
  
A short chapter for all of you waiting so patiently for another update.   
Thanks to Little My for beta reading again!!!  
  
And do not forget to tell me if you like it!   
  
___  
  
  
When Gimli woke again, he found himself alone in the room. Carefully he moved and   
found his arm still tender, but far better than before. With the pain gone he decided   
he was well enough to get up, and to his relief he found his belongings had been   
brought here.   
  
Dressing himself took a bit longer than usual but as no one would ever know, it did   
not dampen the dwarf's good mood.  
  
Stepping out of the House of Healing, Gimli stopped for a moment to light his pipe   
and with a contented look on his face, he started to slowly walk the path then would   
lead him towards the castle.  
  
He had not taken more than a few steps when he halted again, listening. A frown   
appeared on Gimli's face when he heard it again--snatches of a song. The voice he   
knew very well, but it was the sadness of the tune that made him follow in the   
direction of where it seemed to come from. He found a small path, leading away from   
the main street into the greens surrounding the House of Healing. The song became   
clearer and the dwarf stopped, trying to see the singer. It was obvious that the voice   
came from somewhere above, but try as he might, he could not make out anything.  
  
'I know not why I even care,' he mumbled to himself 'That crazy elf could at least stay   
down here where I might find him when one of his fancy moods overcomes him.'  
  
'You know not of what you speak.'   
  
The voice coming from behind was unexpected, and Gimli almost dropped his pipe in   
surprise. Whirling around he faced the speaker, recognizing him as one of Elrond's   
sons. The dark haired elf held a strange expression on his face; a mixture of sorrow   
and annoyance. But his voice remained soft as he spoke on.  
  
'The song of the gulls tears at his heart, son of Gloin. This is naught a mortal can   
ever understand, a longing so strong that it overwhelms the one stricken with it.'  
  
Gimli had known, from the moment he had heard the first snatch of Legolas' voice on   
the air, that the sea longing had taken hold of him once more. It did not happen often,   
and usually the elf was able to fight it ere it took him over completely. But it seemed   
that this time he had not been able to do so. The indication that he would not know   
what it was that ailed his friend caused a burst of anger in Gimli. He gave the elf in   
front of him a tight smile.  
  
'I know well what it is that ails him. I claim not to understand it, but I know how badly   
it affects Legolas.'  
  
The dark haired elf sighed and his eyes softened.  
  
'My apologies, Gimli, I should have known that you would know about it.'  
  
Having caught a look at the elf's hands, Gimli now knew which one of the twins he   
was talking to. It had taken him a long time to find something to tell them apart, until   
he found out that Elrohir always wore a ring on his left hand.  
  
'There is nothing to apologize for,' he mumbled. The elf did not speak again, and all   
that could be heard for a few moments was the sad tune of the song.   
  
'I would like to thank you for your help. It seems that I owe you much,'' Gimli finally   
spoke. Aragorn had confessed that his own healing abilities had not been enough to   
keep the dwarf alive. He had not spoken further of this, reluctant to share the whole   
story with Gimli. But the dwarf knew Elrohir to have the gift of healing, as he had   
seen him use it before. So the conclusion was easy to make, and the dwarf felt the   
need to express his gratitude.   
  
For a moment, the elf only looked at him with a strange expression in his eyes. Then   
he shook his head.  
  
'I cannot accept this, friend Gimli, for it was not I that helped with healing you.'  
  
Surprise registered on the dwarf's face.  
  
Gesturing upwards, Elrohir added, 'It was Legolas.'  
  
'But how? I knew him not to possess any healing powers.'  
  
'It is a gift that runs in the bloodline. Legolas' mother is a healer, and so all her   
children inherited some of her powers. Legolas only possesses a small measure of it,   
and has never been trained in using them. But this is the reason he was able to help   
you when I could not.'  
  
Seeing confusion on Gimli's face, Elrohir paused for a moment, considering how   
much he should tell the dwarf. It was obvious that no one had told him what had truly   
transpired. But the dwarf's curiosity had been piqued, and he would not be satisfied   
without knowing the whole story.  
  
'You speak in riddles, as it seems all elves like to do. Why would Legolas be able to   
heal me when you could not?'  
  
With a sigh, Elrohir gave in.  
  
'To heal someone, a connection is needed where the strength of body and soul can   
be shared. A healer is trained to close himself up if it becomes a danger to himself,   
and this training takes over if too much is asked of him.'  
  
'But Legolas is not trained…'   
  
A memory surfaced of Legolas, sleeping in a chair at his bedside with his eyes   
closed, a sign of deep exhaustion. Gimli did not need to ask any further to   
understand what had happened. Still he wished to confirm his thoughts.  
  
'I was close to death then?'  
  
The elf shrugged.  
  
'There would have been a way to save you, but Legolas thought you would prefer   
death to living like this.'  
  
The elf's eyes had come to rest on the arm Gimli still favored, and the dwarf could   
feel a shudder go through him as the meaning of the words became clear to him.  
  
'And he was right,' he whispered hoarsely. The realization of what could have been   
made him feel sick.   
  
'He knows you well then.'  
  
'Aye, this he does, it seems,' Gimli answered with a soft smile, and his eyes once   
more turned to search for the elf hiding somewhere above them.   
  
A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he turned to look into the gray eyes.  
  
'It has drained him of much of his strength and even if he appears recovered now, it   
will take some time. For someone without any training, it was folly to do what he did.'  
  
There was no doubt of the meaning in these words, and Gimli's heart clenched as he   
realized fully the risk Legolas had taken.   
  
'He has been up there for hours now. I can show you, but I fear you will not be able   
to reach him.'  
  
'Show me,' the dwarf answered simply.   
  
@@@  
  
He was lost in a world he could not control, his emotions whirling around him. He   
could hear the cry of gulls, and if he took a deep breath he could taste the smell of   
the sea. It called to him and he found not the strength to resist it.  
  
Looking up, Gimli could make out the figure seated on the highest spot, overlooking   
the whole city. Elrohir had silently disappeared.  
  
'Legolas?'   
  
He had not expected an answer and he received none. The elf was lost in thought,   
and remembering earlier incidents, he could remain like this for some time.   
  
So the dwarf found a comfortable spot on the ground to settle down, and lit his pipe   
once more. The rays of the sun warmed him as he watched the still form of his friend.  
  
He remained there, blowing smoke rings, even trying but failing to form more   
complicated patterns the way Gandalf did, until the soft sound of Legolas' song and   
the warmth of the sun lulled him to sleep. 


	10. Leaving

A great, great thank you to all of you who are reading this story and a special thanks   
to those of you who took the time to review!  
  
The last chapters were slow, without much action as some of you commented… well   
we will see what going to happen…  
  
A big thank you to Little My for beta reading!!!  
  
On with the story… and let me know what you think!  
  
Something grazed his face, tickling him, and without fully waking Gimli raised his   
hand to brush it away. The sensation came again and, slightly annoyed, the dwarf   
slapped at whatever caused it. Something crunched between his fingers and finally   
his eyes opened to see another heap of dried leaves raining down on him. With a   
growl he got to his feet.  
  
'Legolas.'  
  
The elf had quickly taken a few steps backwards as soon as he saw the dwarf   
awaken. His face was alight with amusement, his eyes dancing with suppressed   
laughter as he looked at Gimli. Indeed the dwarf was a strange sight as leaves had   
caught in his long hair and beard.  
  
'Have you slept well, my friend?' he asked innocently.  
  
Seeing the expression of mirth on the elf's face was too great a relief to Gimli to   
become truly angered, but nevertheless he glared at his friend while his hands tried   
to brush away the offending leaves he had been covered in.  
  
'I would have, but someone decided to disturb my rest,' he answered darkly.   
  
'Only for your own good,' Legolas spoke without even trying to hide the grin on his   
face. 'I would not wish to leave you here on your own when I go to join our friends in   
a hearty meal.'  
  
Gimli combed his beard with his fingers, trying to free it from the surprisingly clingy   
leaves.   
  
'How kind of you,' he spoke with a slightly sarcastic tone to his voice. 'I suppose   
simply calling my name was not sufficient to wake me?'  
  
The elf's eyes widened in amazement.  
  
'Why did I not think of this?' he exclaimed. 'Of course, this would have been the   
easiest way and it would have spared me from collecting all these leaves… but you   
must admit that they are very becoming to you. It makes you look slightly… entish?'  
  
With a squeal of laughter, the elf leaped out of Gimli's way when the dwarf lunged at   
him. Still chuckling, he watched his friend for any sign of another attack but Gimli   
straightened, taking on an air of seriousness. Without casting the elf another look, he   
turned to walk away.  
  
'After all the pains you have gone through to wake me, we should not make our   
friends wait,' the dwarf spoke when he could not hear any indication that Legolas was   
following.  
  
'I agree with you completely. And it would help to maintain some quiet if you could   
feed the wolf you obviously swallowed. His howling frightens even the birds,' a voice   
answered from directly next to him, but Gimli succeeded in not jumping in surprise.   
  
'I would like to see you after days of getting nothing to eat but soup and bread,' he   
shot back. Elves could go without food much longer than mortals but it did not mean   
they did not know how to enjoy it, and he knew well how much Legolas relished a   
good meal.   
  
'Well, but as we came to know, Ents live on their draught and naught else, so I   
wonder why…'  
  
This time the elf was too slow to escape, and the well-aimed kick at the hollow of his   
knee made him stumble. A roar of dwarven laughter accompanied his attempt at   
regaining his balance.  
  
'Clumsy elf,' Gimli grinned, not hiding his slight disappointment that Legolas had   
managed not to fall.   
  
'Dirty dwarf,' Legolas hissed, but the sparkle in his eyes belied the harsh tone of his   
voice.   
  
Gimli chose to ignore him, for they had reached the street leading to the palace and   
he became aware of the sight he presented. With an inward sigh, he decided not to   
give Legolas the satisfaction of seeing him embarrassed, so he pretended not to   
notice the stares he received.   
  
He gave the elf walking next to him a short glance from the corner of his eye, noticing   
the barely concealed grin on his face. But instead of feeling angry at being at the   
receiving end of what Legolas considered humor, he felt more like laughing himself.   
The sea longing was not to be taken lightly, and he had not expected it to pass so   
quickly and without any lasting effect. He had seen it before, the dark mood Legolas   
would slip into, that could last for days. He would appear aloof and lost until it passed   
once more and the yearning of his heart would ease again. Not disappearing   
completely, for the sea never lost its hold on Legolas. But he would be able to ignore   
it, and once more be the light-hearted elf Gimli had come to know and love.  
  
@@@  
  
  
Try as he might, Aragorn could not hide his heartfelt relief as he watched them   
making their last preparations to leave. It brought a grin to Legolas' face, as the elf   
did not miss the emotions playing on the man's countenance.   
  
'You are not really sorry to see us go,' he commented.  
  
Casting a long look around, Aragorn refrained from answering. He loved them dearly,   
both elf and dwarf, and especially Legolas had offered him great support during the   
birth of his son, but right now he was more than glad that Gimli had recovered fully   
and would not be held back any longer. The thought of these two rushing into   
another adventure in hunting down those who had waylaid the dwarf filled him with   
some concern, but knowing his friends well he could not help but feel sorry for those   
who would come to face them. Alas, it had been a great mistake for them to dare rob   
the dwarf of the one thing most precious to him.  
  
'Just be careful,' he finally said. 'I feel no desire to once more admit one of you to our   
House of Healing.'  
  
The elf laughed at that and shook his head.  
  
'Do not worry, Aragorn, for this time our dwarf has an elf by his side and I will take   
care of him.'  
  
Ere the man could remind him of times when it had been himself who needed the   
care, another voice spoke up.  
  
'And who will look after you? It seems to me that you are more prone to injury than   
our dear dwarf. Nay, Legolas, I think it not wise to let the two of you go out there on   
your own.'  
  
In surprise, both looked at the speaker and Elladan grinned back, his brother   
standing next to him. Both seemed ready to travel, with swords at their sides and   
bows on their backs.   
  
'It has been some time since we were on the hunt,' Elrohir explained, with a   
dangerous gleam in his eyes. 'Orcs grow scarce in these lands.'  
  
'Gimli did not object to our accompanying you, and you we will not ask,' Elladan   
added.  
  
'Who am I to disagree when Lord Gimli has spoken? I will bow to his wish and endure   
your presence, as it is his will.' Legolas did his best to sound submissive and humble.  
  
'That would be the first time, elf,' Gimli snorted. 'But as it seems to take three elves to   
balance out the capability of one dwarf, you will need their assistance.'  
  
'When it comes to snoring you are completely right, my friend. Although I doubt even   
the three of us will be able to drown out the noise you are capable of producing,'   
Legolas laughed as he mounted Arod. He was the last one to do so, and with a cry of   
farewell the twins spurred their horses. Selena followed them, and Gimli's answer   
directed at Legolas turned into a shout of surprise as he found himself quickly carried   
away.  
  
With a last wave to Aragorn and Arwen, Legolas rode after them.  
  
Silence fell when they had disappeared, to be broken by a heartfelt sigh of relief.  
  
Musical laughter filled the air as Arwen watched her husband with amusement.  
  
'I have never seen you so happy to watch them leave when you have to stay behind,'   
she gently commented.  
  
'I love them dearly, but it seems to me I have never seen your brothers act so   
childishly as during these last weeks. Legolas and Gimli I know to behave like this,   
but Elladan and Elrohir?'  
  
'It has been many days since an elven child was born to Middle Earth, and I doubt   
there ever will be again,' she answered and there was a hint of sadness in her voice.   
'It is a wonder to them to see our son, and it brings back memories of a time ere   
darkness fell and the elves started to fade. '  
  
He grabbed her hand, smiling at her.  
  
'It was an amusing experience to see them act like children themselves, but I prefer   
the quietness right now.' He looked around and seeing no one but the usual guards,   
he pulled her closer.   
  
'Maybe we should make the best of it while it lasts?' he suggested in a low voice, and   
was rewarded with her escaping his arms without letting go of his hand. Without   
another word she strode back into the palace, and he obediently followed the tug of   
their joined hands, a slightly dreamy smile on his face.   
  
The guards did their best not to look at them as they passed, hiding the grins   
sprouting on their faces.  
  
@@@  
  
'Word has come. Four riders have left Minas Tirith and are on their way to Rohan. It   
is said to be three elves and one dwarf.'  
  
He had suspected this, as he had not been able to find the corpse of the one   
assumed dead. But in the end it did not change anything but that he might get the   
chance to kill him with his own hands after all. A feral grin formed on his face, as he   
once more though of his carefully laid trap that would deliver those who had   
destroyed his life into his hands.  
  
And revenge would be sweet. 


	11. The Tavern

a great thank you to all my faithfull readers out there!   
I am on another trip right now - italy this time - and once more it is hard to find the time for writing and posting.   
but for all of you who asked for more I managed to write a very short chapter...  
  
thanks to Little My for beta reading!  
  
so, on with the story... and let me know if you like it!!!  
  
___  
  
  
They reached the village much sooner than Gimli had expected. The twins had often left them behind, scouting out the area ahead while Legolas stayed with Gimli. As much as the dwarf had gotten used to riding, he was by far not as secure on horseback as the elves accompanying him. Legolas seemed content with staying at his side and he enjoyed his company.  
  
They halted out of sight from the first houses, discussing what to do now. It was Legolasís suggestion that he would go to the tavern Gimli had spent the night in, to try and get some information. If thieves haunted the woods in this area, someone would know about it.  
  
Gimli was reluctant to let his friend go, but the twins seemed to think it a good idea so he held his tongue. If Legolas thought he could discover something, he would not stop him from trying. They agreed to meet again at this place at dawn, and Legolas departed.   
  
Unease settled in Gimli but he ignored it, blaming his own desire to do something, anything to find the ones who had ambushed and robbed him. But he knew there was a time to act and a time to wait. Right now there was nothing else to do but the latter.  
  
They sat up camp and settled down to wait.  
  
@@@  
  
The tavern was full of smoke and the disgusting smell humans emitted, a stench of unwashed bodies and sweat. He could not help but wonder how anyone could take rest in surroundings like these.  
But then again men did not posses the sharpened senses of elves.  
  
He had drawn up his hood to hide his ears, not wishing to betray that he was an elf. Mixing with the crowd might offer him the opportunity to overhear something of interest. Some curious glances were directed at him when he made his way through the room towards an empty table, but no one showed any further interest in him. He ordered a pint of ale as he knew it to be the preferred drink of men, although he himself had never taken a great liking to it. He nipped at it while he used his keen sense of hearing to listen to the conversations going on around him.  
  
There was talk of women, hunting and fighting, tales that sounded widely exaggerated and sometimes even disgusting to someone who had little knowledge of the ways of men. Hearing what he did, Legolas could only feel gratitude that he had so little dealings with this race.   
  
Once he could hear a comment about Eomer and his wife, and it took much of his self-restraint not to interfere in the interest of one of the few men he had come to call friend.   
  
Men truly are a peculiar race, he mused. He had seen them achieve things no one would have thought them capable of, and he had felt great respect for those he had seen fighting, even when the odds were not in their favor. But observing them as they were now, and listening to their speech, he could only wonder.  
  
But naught he saw or heard gave him any hint about the men that had ambushed Gimli. He had finished his ale, and feeling the need to wash away the lingering bitter taste he rose to order some water, deciding to leave soon. He would not find the information he needed like this. Maybe if he asked around, but that would mean drawing attention to himself and he was reluctant to do so.   
  
The bartender gave him a strange look, as if water was something no one would ever take if something else could be had, but did not comment. As he turned away to get it, Legolasís attention was distracted for a moment when voices rose in the back of the room. Giving a short glance towards the disturbance, it seemed that a few men had gotten into a dispute about a certain woman.   
  
Legolas quickly paid and drained the glass, eager to leave the tavern and breathe clear air again. Even as he swallowed he recognized the strange taste of the water, but ere his mind had made the right connection it was already too late. The glass slipped from his fingers and the world around him suddenly started to blur. He felt a strong arm slip around his shoulders as he tried to get away and outside, and the strength to fight the supporting and restraining grip failed him. The last thing he heard ere awareness fled was the voice of a man close to him, but he could not make out the words.  
  
@@@  
  
He had known the elf would come. Why he could not say, but he had been sure enough to wait for him. Several days had passed, but each morning he had returned to the tavern and taken his seat at the back, waiting.  
  
And then he had come.  
  
It had been easy to recognize him, despite the drawn hood covering his golden hair and pointed ears. The way he moved betrayed him, and he could only wonder why no one else could see it.  
  
He had watched him from his place, knowing he himself could not be seen, and his sharp eyes did not miss the subtle signs of hidden disgust. It only enhanced his own anger. So men were a repelling race for elves? The Eldar were so much above men that being among them caused them disgust?  
  
A piece of gold was all it took to persuade the bartender to slip a few drops from the flask handed to him into the elfís next drink. He stood there, ready to move when the elf drained his glass, and at the first sign he moved forward. He was careful not to reveal his victimís true identity when he slipped a supporting arm around him. The draught has done its work--the elf was almost unconscious and he had only to mutter the words, ëhe has had too much to drink again, to reinforce the image of supporting a drunken friend out of the tavern. No one looked twice at them as he half-carried the elf outside.  
  
His horse was waiting nearby, and it took less strength than expected to haul the elf across its back. He was lighter than he looked. Mounting behind the prone form, he made haste in getting out of the village, knowing the draughtís effect would not last long on an elf. 


	12. Trees and Horses

Hello my dear readers! I am back from Italy and so here is a quick update for all of   
you who have been patiently waiting for it.  
  
Thanks for the many reviews – I am glad to see how many of you seem to enjoy my   
writing!  
  
Thanks to Little My for always encouraging me and beating my writing.  
  
on with the story - and I will work on quicker updates from now on…  
  
oh… and let me know what you think!  
  
___  
  
Dawn had come but Legolas had not returned. What had been unease had turned to   
worry, and Gimli could see his own dark thoughts reflected in the silver gray eyes of   
Elrond's sons.   
  
The sun had risen fully when Gimli's patience finally left him. Without a word, he rose   
from the place where for some time he had been silently sitting. His hands had come   
to rest upon his axe, the familiar feeling of the well-worn handle soothing him as well   
as strengthening him in his decision. He would not waste time in sitting here and   
waiting while Legolas could be in danger.  
  
He spoke no word as he passed the twins, ignoring them. He felt dark anger at them   
for their insistence to stay here and wait, when everything in him screamed to go and   
look for his missing friend.   
  
His bundle was quickly fastened on Selena's back, but ere he could move to mount   
his horse a strong hand came to rest upon his shoulder, holding him back.  
  
'There is no use in going there, Gimli.' Elladan's voice was soft and held no tone of   
command, but for the dwarf it was too much. With a violent move he freed himself   
from the elf's grip, and a dangerous fire burned in his eyes when he turned on him.  
  
'What would you know that I do not? Legolas has not come back, and I will go and   
find some answers to my questions. You may come with me, but you will not hold me   
back.'  
  
The elf shook his head, a slight smile playing around his lips.  
  
'Now I know what Legolas meant when he spoke of the stiff necks of the dwarves.'  
  
Gimli's face darkened even more and Elladan became aware that he was quickly   
becoming truly enraged. So he spoke on, hoping to steer the dwarf away from the   
emotional edge on which he was balancing, and prevent him from doing anything   
rash.  
  
'Maybe I know more than you do, master dwarf,' he gently offered, and seeing the   
flicker in Gimli's eyes he knew that holding back whatever he knew would not be   
taken kindly.  
  
'There is something wrong,' he said, and for a moment his eyes strayed away from   
Gimli's face. His intense gaze traveled over the trees surrounding them.   
  
'Really?' The biting sarcasm was ignored as Elrohir stepped closer to them, offering   
support to his brother. For a moment Gimli felt outnumbered until, with a slight pang,   
he remembered that they were supposed to be allies. Legolas was a friend to all of   
them, and there was no reason to not listen at least to the twins. He may not   
understand the ways of the elves, may never be able to see why they could sit here   
and do nothing when one they called a close friend might be in peril. But he had   
learned to trust the keen senses elves possessed, and it was this trust that made him   
stay and look at the twins expectantly, instead of simply mounting and riding away   
like every fiber of his being screamed at him to do.  
  
'The trees,' Elrohir spoke up, and Gimli could hardly suppress the impulse to roll his   
eyes. Why did anything concerning elves always seem to include trees?  
  
'They speak of evil.'   
  
Gimli sighed. Did they not always? It was nothing that would help them. But the tone   
of Elrohir's voice as he spoke the next words made him freeze.  
  
'They are angry.'  
  
Without knowing why, a shudder went through the dwarf and his eyes sought   
Elrohir's. Great distress could he read on the elf's face, and for the first time he   
realized that whatever they knew worried them deeply.  
  
'What do they say?' Gimli's voice was harsh, and he tried to ignore the fact that he   
indeed was asking a tree's opinion.  
  
'What they speak of is bloodshed and lives taken. It fills them with pain and sorrow.   
But what enrages them is that the blood of a wood elf has been shed. They cry for his   
pain.'  
  
Fear. It was cold fear that curled in Gimli's stomach and he found no words as he   
stared at Elrohir, afraid of what else he might say.  
  
'Wherever Legolas is, he is no longer in that village. He has passed the trees, and we   
need to follow this trail if we wish to find him.'  
  
'What trail?' Gimli could not help but ask, although he feared he already knew the   
answer.  
  
'The trees will lead us. They will not allow a wood elf to suffer from the hands of men,'   
Elrohir spat, and for once his calm façade cracked and Gimli could glimpse a short   
look at the turmoil underneath. Anger and worry, so deep the dwarf felt overwhelmed.   
  
'What are we waiting for, then?' He could not understand why they were not already   
on their way.  
  
'It is not as easy as you might think, master dwarf.' It was Elladan who spoke now.   
Elrohir had turned away and he stood now with his back to Gimli, his head bowed   
and his posture tense. His brother's eyes were fixed on him while his words were   
directed at the dwarf. 'The trees speak of other intruders, but if they are friend or foe   
we know not.'  
  
'I care not,' Gimli answered. 'If they are friends then all is well, and if not…'  
  
'The woods here are deep, and it could take us days to search them and still we   
might find naught. These thieves have been hiding here for some time and no one   
had been able to find them. Be patient, friend Gimli, for the trees might tell us what   
we need to know.'   
  
Elladan fell silent now and when Gimli opened his mouth to protest once more, a   
sharp gesture of his hand stopped the dwarf. In silence Gimli waited, not really   
knowing what for, but he had realized that Elrohir had not moved again, his posture   
radiating deep concentration.   
  
His patience running thin, Gimli forced himself to remain calm, to wait for whatever   
the elves were doing to pass. Maybe then they could go and look for his friend.  
  
Nothing disturbed the peaceful quiet of their surroundings as they stood there, and   
Gimli became aware of the beauty of the day. The sky was a deep blue and the sun,   
just risen, already warmed his skin. It only made his heart ache the more, for he knew   
Legolas would not be able to enjoy it. The thought of his friend in the hands of men   
once more filled him with rage as much as sorrow. He had seen once what the   
malice and hate of men against the Eldar had cost his friend, and he wished not for   
him to go through anything like that again.  
  
Why Legolas had been taken was a mystery to him. Had he been careless, had he   
asked too many questions? Gimli could not believe this.   
  
Had he been recognized? Maybe, but why take him captive? There were only two   
answers--for ransom or for revenge. The first would mean to challenge King   
Thranduil, and Gimli doubted that anyone could be foolish enough to do this. The   
second filled him with cold fear.   
  
@@@  
  
When awareness started to return to Legolas, it took long seconds for him to realize   
the reason for the rocking motion of the world around him. The smell of horse was   
overlaid with the strong odor of a man's sweat, and it almost made the elf gag.   
  
Taking a deep breath he brought himself under control, and as his head slowly   
cleared he could take in the situation he was in. His hands were bound tightly behind   
his back, the strain pulling on his shoulders. He was slumped over the back of a   
horse, his body pressed against the rider's. Repulsion swept through him as well as   
the realization that he had no idea as to the rider's identity. But questions he could   
ask later, Legolas decided. Right now he needed to get out of this slightly   
embarrassing situation.  
  
He moved quickly and took the man completely by surprise. One quick movement   
and he had flung himself from the horse, calling out to it in the elven tongue. But his   
sudden motion spooked the horse and it did not heed his words. Legolas landed   
hard, his bound hands preventing him from being able to catch himself. He tried to   
roll away from the horse, but the suddenness of his actions, combined with the   
violent reaction of the man who had called out in surprise and pulled on the bridle,   
caused the horse to panic. Rearing up, it threw the man from his saddle. Even the   
speed of elves was not enough to bring Legolas out of its reach as the hooves came   
down. 


	13. Meetings

Once more a big, huge thank you to everybody who reviewed…   
To everybody who asked – yes Italy was great – and yes, I came back well rested –   
and with the idea for another story spooking in my head. Well, I will try not to start on   
it until this one is finished. I'll try… :-)  
  
I am also glad to hear how many of you seem to like the twins as much as I do…   
although they are a stubborn lot – always doing things I never wanted them to do in   
the first place… :-)  
  
Oh – and thanks for hugs and cookies :-) !!!  
  
Thanks to Little My, my most patient beta reader!!!!  
  
So, on with the story, ere some of you make good of their threats…  
___  
  
Legolas had tried to roll away, out of the horse's reach, and was face down in the   
moment his movement was halted with brutal force when the hooves came down on   
him. He was lucky that only one of them hit him, but the blinding pain shooting   
through him drove any thought away. The hoof impacted with his left arm, pressing   
him hard into the ground. The terrible pressure on his back drove all air from his   
lungs and stifled any scream the feeling of breaking bones might have caused.   
  
Then the man was on his feet again and his movements caused the horse to break   
away, its panic only slowly subsiding. Legolas could hear his voice as he soothingly   
called out to the frightened animal. The elf seemed to be forgotten for the moment.   
  
Even through the pain, Legolas realized he had only this chance to get away and   
tried to get to his feet. The pain was breathtaking, the broken bones in his left arm   
grating against each other as he forced himself to his knees. His bound arms   
increased the agony, as it was impossible to keep the wounded limb still.   
  
He managed to get into a kneeling position and paused to take in the situation. The   
feeling of cold steel against his throat made him freeze. The man stood behind him,   
the horse obviously calmed. A quick glance at the blade pressed against his skin   
made Legolas even more careful to remain motionless. It was one of his own long   
knives, and he knew well how sharp they were.  
  
He heard a chuckle, and it was not a pleasant sound. The odor of the man was once   
more in Legolas's nostrils, and this time as it was not mixed with the smell of horse   
the elf realized he knew it. With it, a recollection came of a night many days ago--a   
dark wood and four men. It brought the memory of pain with it, and for a moment the   
past mixed with the present and all the elf knew was agony wracking his body. Then   
it passed and his vision became clear once more, so he could see the man that had   
stepped in front of him, never easing the pressure of the sharp blade he held in his   
left hand against the elf's bare skin.  
  
'Not very dignified for an elf to fall off a horse, is it?' his voice taunted.  
  
Legolas's eyes flashed up at him. Seeing the face only confirmed what his other   
senses had already told him. The last time he had seen this man had been in the   
dark streets of Minas Tirith after he had bested him in a fight, seeking retribution for a   
cowardly ambush. Legolas had refrained from taking his life then but right now he   
deeply regretted this decision.  
  
'No more than for a man,' Legolas hissed back. He could see the rage flickering in   
the light blue eyes staring at him. There was something unsettling about these eyes,   
something that seemed not right.   
  
The blade drew blood as the pressure on it intensified, but not enough to seriously   
wound the elf.   
  
'Hold your tongue, elf, or I might cut it out,' the man spoke, and the coldness of his   
voice left no doubt that he would go through with this threat. He had seen the   
recognition in Legolas's eyes and felt deep satisfaction that the elf knew who he was.  
  
It was now that Legolas realized it was the flicker of madness he could see in the   
blue eyes. Then the man moved and for the first time the elf caught a glimpse of his   
right hand. An ugly scar ran across it and two finger were missing, the retribution for   
holding down the elf while he was beaten. The moment the man's hand disappeared   
into the pouch secured to his belt, Legolas moved.  
  
He jerked his head backwards, away from the blade and he ducked low, throwing   
himself against the man's legs with all his strength. With a cry of surprise, the man   
stumbled backwards, clearly not having expected his bound and hurt captive to show   
any form of resistance. The sudden impact against him made him lose his balance   
and he fell, letting go of the blade to catch himself.   
  
Had Legolas's hands not been bound behind his back, this would have been enough   
of an advantage for the elf to take possession of the weapon and free himself. But   
with his arms useless, all the elf could do was try to get away and he was greatly   
hindered by the pain that had exploded in his body. He got to his feet much slower   
than intended, weakened by the agony in his arm. His vision blurred and for a   
moment he had to stay still and breath deeply to avoid the darkness closing in on   
him. Only a moment, but enough for the man to recover and launch himself at the elf.  
  
A cry of agony was torn from Legolas as he crashed down, his body's weight landing   
on his bound arms. Brilliant pain shot through him, too much for him to take and   
darkness engulfed him.   
  
Feeling the elf go limp, the man moved away from him and quickly reached for the   
knife, seizing it with his left hand. He returned to the elf's side, crouching down   
beside him. The blade once more pressing against his captive's neck, he fumbled   
with his right hand in the pouch, retrieving a small flask. Then he waited.  
  
It took not long for Legolas to resurface from the darkness of unconsciousness, and   
as his eyes flickered open he met the man's burning gaze. He had to use all his self-  
control to not moan at the immense pain pulsing through him, radiating from his arm.   
But he was loath to show weakness, too proud to let this man know the full extent of   
his agony.   
  
'It is your choice, elf,' the man spoke, and his voice held enough malice and hate to   
send a shudder through Legolas. 'Either you take this,' he held the flask in front of   
Legolas's face, 'or I cut your throat right now.' A cold smile appeared on his face.   
'Although it would be a shame for you to die so easily.'  
  
Given a choice between immediate death and taking a potion he knew naught about   
was not hard. As long as he was still alive, he could find a chance to escape.  
  
So refusing to speak to the man, not out of fear but contempt, Legolas averted his   
eyes and opened his mouth.  
  
With a snicker the man tilted the flask, letting a few drops of the clear liquid fall into   
the unresisting elf's mouth.  
  
'I knew you would see reason. But I fear you will come to regret this decision.'  
  
It was a strange taste that filled Legolas's mouth, slightly sweet but not unpleasant.   
He could already feel numbness spread through him and while a part of him fought it   
desperately, a small part of him welcomed it for it would mean to be free of the pain.   
In the end it was not his decision, as the power of the herbs the draught was made   
from overcame his resistance and he slipped away into darkness.   
  
@@@  
  
Too much time had passed for Gimli's liking when Elrohir finally turned to them again.  
  
'Can we leave now?' the dwarf asked, his voice overly polite.   
  
'Yes, friend dwarf, we will leave now. But we will not take the horses for they make   
too much noise in the woods.'  
  
'And you know where to go, do you?' There was a slight sarcastic edge to Gimli's   
voice but Elrohir chose to ignore it.  
  
'We will find a way,' he only answered.   
  
It took only minutes to choose the things they would take with them, leaving   
everything else behind. Then the elves disappeared into the surrounding woods,   
Elladan only a step behind his brother, and Gimli had no choice but to follow them.  
  
They walked in silence, the elves' steps making no sound at all and Gimli as silently   
as he could. From time to time they would stop for no apparent reason, only to move   
on again after a few moments.  
  
'I think I have never seen a dwarf making so little noise before.'   
  
Turning his head, Gimli met Elladan's sparkling eyes. For a moment he wondered   
until he realized it had been not an insult but praise. He blinked in surprise, but   
refrained from telling him that he had learned how to move with stealth to avoid   
Legolas's teasing about the tread of a dwarf warning everything in compass of a   
league of his approach.  
  
They came to a halt again but his time Elrohir called out in a low voice. He spoke the   
elven tongue but Gimli knew enough words by now to understand the meaning.   
Someone was close.  
  
His fingers found the shaft of his axe as his heart quickened. Had they found what   
they had been looking for so quickly? For a moment he was compelled to take back   
all the dark thoughts he had harbored towards the twins during the long wait.  
  
'I doubt you will need your axe, friend Gimli,' Elrohir spoke, a slight smile on his face   
as he took in the battle ready stance of the dwarf.   
  
Surprised, Gimli cast him a questioning glance, but ere the query could be formed he   
could hear what the elves' keen ears had caught long before him. The sound of   
footsteps, loud in the quiet of the wood. For the first time Gimli understood what it   
was that Legolas spoke of, for it was easy to hear the low voices and the sounds of   
moving although the ones causing them were still some distance away.   
  
He did not need to ask; the amused look on the faces of both elves told him what he   
already suspected. A group of dwarves was moving through the woods.  
  
'What are your people doing here, Gimli?' Elladan asked.  
  
He only shrugged for he knew not the answer.   
  
'Surely they will tell us,' he mumbled and started to move in the direction from which   
the sounds could be heard. To his slight surprise the elves did not protest but merely   
followed him, letting him take the lead.  
  
With conflicting emotions Gimli walked towards his own people. Disappointment he   
felt, for they were not what he had been looking for, as well as relief of meeting his   
own kin. Although with all the noise they made, he could not help but wonder if their   
assistance was really desirable. For the first time he realized he was indeed grateful   
for the twin's presence and did trust their abilities to aid him in finding his elven friend   
far more than those of his own people. 


	14. The Camp

Thank you to all my faithful readers & reviewers!!! I crossed the 200 – yay!!!  
  
As it took me so long to update again there is a longer chapter this time…  
  
A big thank you to Little My for beta reading… she has her own story up at ff.net now,   
so if you like to read a lighthearted L/G story go to   
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1007653 and check it out!!!   
  
  
So on with the story, and let me know if you like it…  
  
___  
  
They were further away than Gimli had thought. He stood still, waiting for them to   
break through the underbrush, feeling the elves silent presence behind his back.  
  
When the first dwarf finally appeared Gimli stepped forward to see him flinch in   
surprise, his axe coming up with amazing speed. But as soon as he recognized Gimli   
he relaxed, a wide grin breaking out on his face.  
  
'Gimli!'   
  
His cry was answered from other voices behind him and two other dwarves soon   
joined them. It was with some chagrin that Gimli noticed that only three of them had   
made all that noise.   
  
'Well met, Gudin,' he greeted his friend before turning to the other two. Cerin and   
Furli, both friends as well. All three had chosen to leave the Lonely Mountain and   
follow him to the Glittering Caves. He did not miss the look of unease directed at the   
two silent figures behind him. He moved so he half-faced the elves, motioning with   
his hands for them to step closer.  
  
'These are the sons of Lord Elrond from Rivendell,' he introduced them. 'Elladan and   
Elrohir.'   
  
He did not point out who was who, as he could not see their hands and had no way   
of telling them apart himself. Polite words of greeting were exchanged but they   
lacked any warmth.   
  
'What brings you here?' Gimli asked, for he had wondered what might cause them to   
wander the woods in this area.  
  
The dwarves exchanged a look ere Gudin spoke to answer him.  
  
'A message from Gondor was sent, telling us that you had been attacked. We were   
on our way to come after you.'  
  
'And you chose to take the long way through the woods?' Gimli wondered, his sharp   
eyes not missing another quickly exchanged look.  
  
'We wanted to make sure the way was safe,' Cerin answered.   
  
It was only now that Gudin realized what it was that seemed wrong here. That Gimli   
was accompanied by two elves, the twin sons of Lord Elrond, was not so much a   
surprise as the fact that one particular elf was not with him.   
  
'And what about you, Gimli?' he asked, curiosity getting the better of him. 'The   
message we received spoke of grievous wounds, but you seem much recovered to   
me. I would not have excepted to meet you here, traveling the same path as we do.'  
  
'My quick recovery was only due to the healing powers of Lord Elrond's son,' Gimli   
answered. He could see the reaction to his words as the coldness towards the elves   
seemed to wane a bit. But Elrohir shook his head in denial.  
  
'It was your own stubbornness as well as Legolas's, not my weak attempt to help.   
What I did was minor compared to what the two of you achieved.'   
  
'Were is Legolas?' Gudin finally voiced the question that had been burning on his   
tongue ever since he noticed the elf's absence.  
  
A flicker of pain showed in Gimli's eyes ere he looked away, but it was enough to tell   
the other dwarf that something was seriously wrong.  
  
'He has been taken captive by the men we both seem to look for,' Elladan spoke. He   
was deeply surprised by the looks of dismay and worry that crossed the dwarves'   
faces upon hearing his words.   
  
'Why?' Cerin asked, a question Gimli had asked himself before.   
  
Why indeed? Why take the elf captive and take him into these woods? He still had no   
answer and a short look around only showed blank faces.  
  
'We know not,' Elrohir answered. 'All we can do is guess and this will not help us in   
finding him.'  
  
'We followed a trail to come here, but it was made by only one horse and seemed to   
come from the village south from here. We lost it though, not too long ago.' Furli's   
words evoked sudden hope in Gimli. A trail was more than they had come to find until   
now. Maybe the elves had known where to go, after all.  
  
'We know not if this will lead us to those we are looking for,' Elladan cautioned.   
  
'Yet it is better than naught,' Gimli answered. 'Or would the trees tell you more?'  
  
His tone might have been sarcastic but something in his eyes told Elrohir the   
question was not made entirely in jest. So he refrained from giving a sharp answer,   
merely shrugging.  
  
'We will follow it then,' Elladan decided, seeing his brother seemed not to have any   
objections.   
  
For the keen eyes of the elves, the trail was not hard to follow. The silent movements   
of the elves caused the dwarves to take more caution as they followed them, without   
any word needing to be uttered. Maybe the fact that Gimli himself moved without too   
much sound did help. Conversations were held only in whispers as the small group   
slowly but steadily made its way through the woods.  
  
Gimli was slightly startled from not too pleasant thoughts when he noticed a sudden   
change in Elladan's pace. He watched as the elf rushed towards a spot and crouched   
down, studying the ground.  
  
'It is the right trail,' he finally said, his voice hard.   
  
The others had stopped, not stepping closer in fear of destroying the tracks they   
could see clearly imprinted on the ground.   
  
'The horse shied here,' Elladan explained, pointing with a hand at the place where   
the ground was trampled. 'Two kinds of footprints, one of them a man.'   
  
He motioned towards another place. 'A fight has taken place, and it's the man's   
footprints that return to the horse and he dragged someone with him. The tracks are   
a few hours old. We need to make haste.'  
  
There was no need to mention that the other prints were made by an elf. Six pairs of   
eyes scanned the ground as they walked over it, and Gimli could feel great relief at   
not seeing blood here. That the elf should have lost a fight against a mere man   
seemed unlikely, but from the look of it he was still alive.  
  
@@@  
  
It was the sound of a horse that made the woman look up from her sewing, to see   
who it was that had entered the camp. With disappointment and even a slight feeling   
of unease she recognized the man dismounting. He looked over, and her unease   
grew when he started to make his way over to her, leading the horse. Her eyes   
widened as she noticed the bundle thrown over the back of the horse was indeed a   
human form, and for the shortest moment fear filled her heart as she could not see   
the head of the still figure. But then she saw the rope binding the ankles together and   
knew it was a captive.   
  
She cast a quick glance around, taking notice of where her children were. She could   
see them sitting next to the small hut they called their home now, playing in the dirt.   
As if feeling her eyes on him, her son looked up, meeting her gaze for a moment,   
then he shot a short look at the approaching man and she could see something close   
to contempt cross his face. He might be a child still, but he had started to show a   
great protectiveness towards his little sister as well as his mother when his father was   
absent. So the questioning look in his eyes when they met hers again came as no   
surprise. She shook her head, indicating that he should stay with his sister.   
  
Then she leveled her gaze on the approaching man. To see him like this made her   
shudder. He had been a good man once, just like her husband, but now she hardly   
recognized him anymore.   
  
He stopped in front of her, giving her a smile. It could have been charming if not for   
the strange flicker in his eyes.   
  
'My dear Clardyn, how do you fare?'  
  
She could not help but snort, making a sweeping gesture with her hand that took in   
all of their surroundings.  
  
'This is a strange question to ask, Surdim. Have you taken a good look around lately?   
We live hidden away in the middle of thieves and murderers. My children grow up in   
the wilderness and the first thing my son will learn is how to fight. How do I fare? You   
tell me.'  
  
His eyes flashed back at her as he was not used to be spoken to in such manner. But   
amusement won over annoyance and he let out a chuckle at seeing her lose her   
composure for once.  
  
'I see,' he grinned. 'Is Lian here?'  
  
She sighed, shaking her head.  
  
'He left in the morning and I know not when he will be back.'  
  
Her eyes flickered to the still form on the horse but she knew better than to ask.   
  
He noticed her glance and his grin broadened.  
  
'Do you know who this is?' he asked, gesturing at the limp form.  
  
She shook her head. Whoever it was, she held not much hope for his life.  
  
'He is the one who is responsible for all this.' His eyes gleamed and she felt sickened   
at the hate that shone in them.  
  
He reached out and grabbed hold of one leg, pulling the still form from the horse,   
making no move to break his fall. The horse shied away, its legs only narrowly   
missing the fallen body.  
  
She took in the long golden hair, the slender form. When she caught sight of one   
pointed ear, she could feel a deep fear well up inside of her.   
  
'An elf?' she whispered.   
  
'Not any elf. He is the one that caused us to lose everything, to live as outcasts. The   
one who forced us to leave our homes.'  
  
Clardyn stared at him in quiet shock. Ever since the day she had been forced to   
leave her house to go with the man she loved, she had felt a deep anger at the hard   
punishment the king of Gondor had dealt the two men. She had been there before   
the king's palace. She had seen the elf's back and had felt deep shock at the cruelty   
done to him. She would never have thought her own husband capable of committing   
such brutality. Still, she had not believed that a mere beating would justify so hard a   
verdict.   
  
'He is the one who did this to us,' Surdim hissed and he held up his right hand. She   
had gotten used to seeing the mutilation on both him and Lian. She knew it was the   
one thing that bothered both men the most, for they had been warriors before. They   
had learned to use the left hand, but the skills they once possessed could never   
again be reached.   
  
It made them useless as warriors, and it was next to impossible for them to find any   
kind of work. Fighting was all they had ever known, but now, driven by necessity to   
steal and rob, they could no longer even fight honorably as soldiers.  
  
With swirling emotions, she watched as he dragged the unresisting figure to his feet.   
Golden hair fell away from a pale face and she felt a pang as she caught sight of his   
face. The fairness of elves was beyond the measuring of men, and even disheveled   
and pale he still held such beauty that she could not stay unaffected. She was a kind   
woman by heart, and as much as she loved her husband she knew quite well that it   
had been the elf who had been wronged that night as he was attacked. He had   
sought retribution as was his right, and she had always been grateful that he had   
refrained from taking Lian's life.  
  
Even living like this was better than losing the man she loved.   
  
'He is the one who maimed Papa?'  
  
Her son's voice startled her and she looked down to see him standing next to her, his   
gaze glued to the limp form Surdim was dragging towards a tree.  
  
'Yes, he is the one,' the man answered. 'If you bring me the rope from my saddlebag,   
I can make sure that he will not get away.'   
  
The boy obeyed but his eyes never left the elf. Clardyn's heart clenched at seeing the   
expression in her son's eyes. He adored his father and had never been told the   
whole story of what had transpired that fateful night so many days ago. He only knew   
his father had been wounded and forced to leave his home. Now he was confronted   
with one who was called responsible for this, and she could see the hate in his eyes.   
  
She almost cried out when Surdim drew a knife, but he only used it to cut away the   
bindings from the elf's hands. Then he brought him into a sitting position, his back   
against the trunk of the tree.  
  
'Does he live?' the boy asked.  
  
'Yes, he does. And he will for a while longer. I need to have your father with me when   
I take my revenge,' the man answered as he secured the elf to the tree, forcing his   
arms around the trunk as far as they would go ere he tightly bound the rope around   
his wrists. Satisfied that his captive would not be able to free himself, he took a step   
backwards.  
  
'You will take good care of him while I am gone?' he asked and was rewarded with   
an enthusiastic nod. Pride showed in the boy's eyes at being trusted with so   
important a task.  
  
'I will go and get your father,' Surdim spoke. 'If he wakes, give him some of this   
water.' He handed a water skin to the boy. 'It contains something that will keep him   
quiet.'  
  
The boy nodded again and settled down on the ground, a small distance away from   
the captive elf to keep watch over him.  
  
'I do not like this,' Clardyn hissed. 'I do not wish my son involved in something like   
this, and Lian either. Did you not get into enough trouble messing with him in the first   
place?'   
  
His gaze turned cold and she took a quick step backwards, remembering why she   
feared him.   
  
'Do not concern yourself with matters you know naught about, woman,' he warned.   
'This is a matter that needs to be settled by men, and it will be done.' A feral grin lit   
his face. 'And Lian deserves to enjoy it as much as I will.'  
  
With that he turned away and left her standing. She could feel fingers touching her   
and a small warm body wriggling against her skirt. She waited until he had mounted   
his horse and left the camp once more ere she looked down at her daughter. Big blue   
eyes looked up at her and she forced herself to smile reassuringly.   
  
'Is he a bad man?' the little girl asked, and she could not help but wonder if she   
meant the captive elf bound to the tree or the man who had just rode away. Without   
giving an answer she picked the little one up, ignoring the curious stares directed at   
them from all over them camp. The others, women and men alike, had watched   
quietly but she knew questions would not be asked. Surdim was feared even among   
these people. 


	15. Conversations

A big, big thank you to all of you - your encouragement keeps me going even though work is piling up   
and I hardly find the time for writing...   
  
  
Another thanks to Little My for beta reading!  
  
  
So for all my patient readers and reviewers another chapter...  
  
And let me know if you like it :-)  
  
____  
  
  
Pain was the first thing his mind registered, and he had to fight the temptation to return into the dark   
oblivion of unconsciousness. Legolas's first impulse was to move, to bring his body into a more   
comfortable position, but something held him back and the tug on his arms only caused a flare of hot   
pain to shoot through his broken arm. A groan escaped him but as his eyes were still closed he   
missed the effect this small sound had on his surroundings.  
  
The boy was on his feet within a heartbeat, big eyes on the slumped figure of the elf. His mother had   
not heard the sound of pain but saw her son's reaction and made haste in joining him. They stood a   
little away from the captive, a similar look of fear and curiosity in their eyes as they watched for   
another sign of awareness from the elf. But where a spark of compassion could be seen in the   
woman's eyes, there was a smoldering anger in those of the boy.  
  
Legolas had chosen to not move again, waiting for the pain to abate. Slowly his memory returned and   
he remembered the situation he was in--taken captive by a man seeking revenge. He could feel the   
coarse texture of bark under his fingers, and even though it led to the realization that he was bound to   
a tree it still felt calming. He could hear the tree's soft voice whispering in the wind and concentrated   
on it until the pain had reduced to a throbbing.  
  
Keen ears could make out the sounds of breathing close by, and the sensation of being watched was   
getting stronger by the moment. Deciding there was no use in avoiding the confrontation any longer,   
Legolas finally raised his head and opened his eyes.   
  
As minutes passed by without the elf stirring, Clardyn had come close to losing hope that he would   
awaken. It was a mixture of relief and disappointment she felt as she looked at him, waiting for any   
sign of awareness. Then, all of a sudden he moved and she found herself staring into deep dark eyes.   
They held a look of cold contempt and pride that quickly changed to one of surprise and confusion as   
Legolas took in the woman and child standing before him, where he had expected to see the man who   
had taken him captive.  
  
A look of bewilderment crossed his face for a moment as his eyes darted between Clardyn and her   
son. Then Legolas turned his attention to their surroundings, taking in the size of the camp and the   
people he could see, noticing that men as well as children and women dwelt here but he knew none of   
them. He turned his attention back on the woman, meeting her eyes with calmness. What he could   
read in them gave him reason to hope.  
  
'I know not what reason you have to hold me captive like this,' he spoke, his voice calm. 'So I would   
ask you to release me from these bonds.'  
  
His voice was soft and melodious, pleasant to hear, and she found herself captivated by him. His eyes   
only added to his fairness and she could not hold on to the dark feelings she might have harbored   
against him once. He was the reason for their hard life, but he was not the one at fault.  
  
'You have hurt my Pa.' It was the voice of a child hurling this accusation against the elf, and Legolas   
found an angry pair of eyes flashing at him. The boy stood there next to his mother, his hands   
clutching a water skin. 'You will pay for what you did.'  
  
Clardyn reached out, grasping the rigid shoulder of her son and giving him a slight shake. 'Go, look   
after your sister,' she ordered. But he did not move to obey her, shaking his head in stubborn denial.   
  
'Who is your father, and what is it I have done to him?' Legolas asked, although some suspicions had   
started to rise.   
  
'Lian from Gondor,' the boy answered with pride. 'And you are the one who injured him so badly he   
could no longer be a soldier.'  
  
'Do not pass judgment so quickly, young one,' Legolas answered. 'I have never fought anyone without   
reason.'  
  
He wished to say more but found himself forced to pause, the pain burning in his arm bothering him   
more than he wished to admit.   
  
'What reason could you have to fight with my Pa? He is an honorable man.'  
  
A short glance at the dismay on the woman's face told Legolas the boy did not know the whole story.   
He could see the anger in his eyes but also something else. He was afraid but hid it well, and he was   
awed. The child had never seen an elf before and Legolas fascinated him deeply. One could not stay   
unaffected by the sight of one of the Firstborn, and he was still of an age where children are easily   
impressed. But foremost he had found a target on which to lay blame for the situation his family found   
itself in. He had not missed the unhappiness of his parents and did not truly like the people they lived   
with now.   
  
'Even the most honorable man might fall,' Legolas smiled sadly. He had seen Boromir succumb to the   
influence of the ring and he had been one he had felt great respect for. 'I have seen it before and I will   
see it again.'  
  
'Not my Pa!' The faith of a child spoke in these words, and Legolas felt deeply sorry for the   
disappointment the boy would face.   
  
'Dian.' Clardyn's voice held a warning. She did not wish for her son to come to know of the truth like   
this.   
  
He heard the tone and realized she had not spoken up in defense of his father like he knew her to do   
from other occasions. Confused, he looked up at her, a question in his eyes she chose to ignore.  
  
'Go, look after your sister,' she repeated her earlier order.  
  
'But Surdim said...'  
  
'I care not for what he said and neither should you.' Her voice rose and did not hide the contempt she   
felt for this man. 'Go and do as I bid you.'  
  
He obeyed but not without another angry look at the elf. The water skin fell from his hands to the   
ground as he turned and stomped away.  
  
'He knows not he truth, but you do,' Legolas stated calmly.   
  
She did not look away from his gaze, although it took much willpower to endure it.  
  
'Yes, I do.'  
  
'Then you know you have no right to hold me here. Your husband has taken me captive, but I must   
question the honorability of this deed.'  
  
She could hear the mocking in his tone but found the contents of his words more disturbing.  
  
'The one who brought you here is not my husband,' she spat. 'And his honor I care not to defend. Lian   
knows naught of this and I am sure he will not agree.'  
  
'So you will release me?'  
  
She hesitated for a moment ere she shook her head. Fear returned to her eyes, and Legolas realized   
that she might not care for Surdim but she did fear him. With a sigh of defeat he let his head fall back,   
resting it against the tree.   
  
'I am sorry,' Clardyn said softly and found she truly was. Looking intently at him, she could see fine   
lines of pain around his tightly pressed lips. For the first time the thought of how Surdim had been able   
to overpower an elf occurred to her. Surely this had not happened without a fight and her eyes quickly   
roamed over the slender form, trying to see if he was wounded. She noticed the small cut on his throat   
but it was almost healed already, only the dried blood making it visible.  
  
'Are you hurt?' she finally asked when she could find naught else.  
  
'Would it make a difference?' Legolas's voice was bitter. She heard the accusation in it and spoke to   
defend herself.  
  
'If it were only me I have to think of, I would not hesitate to defy Surdim. But you know naught of what   
we face here. I do not wish for my children to be the target of his anger should he return and find you   
gone.'  
  
He gave no answer and she added, 'Lian will not allow for you to come to harm.'  
  
'He did it once, and I have no reason to believe he would not do so again.' The smile on his face was   
grim. 'I carry the scars to prove it.'  
  
She knew not what to say and this time she could not hold his gaze. In silence, Legolas watched her   
until she finally turned to walk away. Then his attention returned to his surroundings, studying every   
detail.  
  
@@@  
  
They had followed the trail for some time when Elrohir, who had the lead, stopped once more. This   
time even the dwarves were able to make out the tracks on the ground. With dismay Gimli looked at   
them, noticing there were more than the one they had been following.   
  
He turned a questioning glance at the elves, wishing to know what they thought of this. It was Elladan   
who noticed him and gestured at him to join them.  
  
'What do you make of this, Gimli?' he asked, and the dwarf noted with some surprise that there was   
no mocking tone. He truly wished to know his opinion.  
  
'These tracks seem to come from different directions and one of them is at least a day old,' he voiced   
his observations. 'But they all turn in the same direction, so I assume there is a place they all head to   
and I would guess it is not that far away.'  
  
The elves nodded as they had drawn the same conclusion.  
  
'We are getting closer,' Elrohir spoke. 'The trees speak of many people but I know of no village here in   
the deeps of the woods. It seems we are about to find the camp of these thieves and bushrangers we   
have been looking for. Although the reason why one of them should take Legolas there as a captive   
eludes me.'   
  
'Who knows,' Gimli grumbled. 'Maybe someone has heard his sorry attempts at singing and has   
decided to take him there as a source of amusement.'  
  
The shocked looks he received from both elves made him quickly raise his hand in defense.  
  
'I was only jesting, for no reason comes to my mind as well.'  
  
A wide grin formed on Elladan's face.  
  
'As a source of amusement?' he laughed. 'I must make sure to tell Legolas of this!'  
  
'Aye,' Elrohir chuckled. 'It will certainly please him to hear this.'  
  
'First we must find him,' Gimli mumbled, slightly embarrassed. He had gotten so used to mocking   
Legolas that he had even done so now, when he knew nothing of his welfare.   
  
'I would suggest for you and your companions to stay here, while Elrohir and I scout ahead. We will be   
able to move faster and without being noticed for the camp will surely be guarded,' Elladan said, his   
voice serious once more.   
  
Gimli nodded his consent and within a heartbeat both elves had disappeared. The dwarves decided to   
move away from the tracks, hiding close by in case someone else would come heading towards the   
camp.  
  
They settled down in silence, using the opportunity to eat and rest. Gimli found he had no appetite as   
worry once more invaded his thoughts. He hoped the elves would return swiftly, for waiting seemed a   
maddening task as long as he knew not how Legolas fared. The trees had spoken of bloodshed but   
they had found no trace of it, not even on the trampled ground where the fight had taken place.  
  
Soft snoring could be heard as his companions quickly managed to fall asleep. Gudin had asked if he   
should keep watch but Gimli assured him he would stay awake. Sleep would not come to him when he   
knew not if Legolas was still alive.  
  
@@@  
  
'We were right--it is the camp and from the look of these men I would assume they are not here to take   
care of the trees.'  
  
Elladan nodded, his eyes fixed on the still form tied to a tree.  
  
'And Legolas is still alive.' His voice held all the relief he felt from the deep fears he had hidden from   
Gimli's eyes.  
  
'Aye, and not singing,' Elrohir added in a feeble attempt to lift their dark mood.   
  
A tight smile was his answer as Elladan finally turned to look at his twin.  
  
'We cannot simply attack.' He voiced the realization that had dawned on both of them.  
  
'No,' Elrohir confirmed, his eyes seeking out the children he could see playing in the middle of the   
camp. 'Nor can we slip in and free him without being noticed.'  
  
'We need a plan and I know not how much time we have. Legolas has been taken for a reason and   
the most likely one is that one of these men has a score to settle with our dear Mirkwood elf.'  
  
'Greenwood, my brother, Greenwood it is called now,' Elrohir grinned, echoing the words he had heard   
Legolas utter on endless occasions. 'You will never get it, will you?'  
  
'But it annoys him so wonderfully,' Elladan grinned back. 'I guess we should return and tell our dear   
dwarf of our findings. Maybe we can work out a plan together, for I would not wish to bring bloodshed   
and destruction to a place were children and women dwell.'  
  
'I agree, and even Gimli will hesitate to raise his axe under such circumstances. Although I would not   
be too sure of this if it is the only way to free Legolas.'   
  
Their whispered conversation carried on even as they moved away from the camp without ever   
making a sound. The two guards posted had been easily evaded.  
  
'There you might have a point. I think he would not hesitate to face a Balrog when it comes to   
defending that elf.'  
  
'And neither would Legolas. I really wonder at these two. They never seem to have a civil conversation   
and you might think they would be at each other's throats any moment.'  
  
'Aye, but say one word against Gimli and you have an arrow nocked at you.'  
  
'And one word against that elf and you have an axe held against your neck.'  
  
'Yet their friendship is doomed to end,' Elrohir commented, and sadness shone in the silver eyes as he   
looked at his brother. 'Have you ever thought of this?'  
  
A shadow crossed his brother's face.  
  
'Aye, I have, and I think so has anyone who cares for Legolas. I hope the sea will call him away ere   
this day comes, for it would surely break his heart.'  
  
'Foolish it is to feel such love for a mortal,' Elrohir sighed.   
  
'And yet there is naught to be done about it. I am sure the dwarves consider it equally foolish to feel   
love for an elf,' Elladan chuckled. 'Although these three we stumbled across seem to be quite taken   
with Legolas.'  
  
'Well, he is a charming one, is he not? Whoever meets him wishes to keep him--even these   
bushrangers.'   
  
They exchanged a quick grin, the tension that had built during the last hours slowly easing as they   
jested with each other.  
  
'And I see it as our duty to free him and return him to Gimli,' Elladan spoke, and with another chuckle   
they fell into silence once more as they made their way back to their companions. 


	16. A Plan

Another great thank you to all the wonderful reviews!  
And laure: thanks for cookies and hugs… if you keep this up I will need to go on an   
imaginary diet :-))))  
  
So, I hope I have not lost your attention while waiting so long for this chapter – the   
next one will come soon this time.  
  
As always thanks go to Little My for beat reading!   
  
So, on with the story… and let me know if you like it!!!  
  
___  
  
Gimli was not pleased to hear the news the sons of Elrond brought.   
  
'What do you mean we cannot attack?' he fiercely protested even ere Elladan had   
finished. 'You said you have seen Legolas? They keep him a captive there and we   
will get him out.'  
  
'You know not all there is to tell, son of Gloin,' Elrohir calmed him. 'The camp is full of   
people…'  
  
'I care not. Let them taste my axe if they wish to.'  
  
'There are women among them, and children. Do you truly wish to endanger their   
lives as well?'  
  
The dwarf fell silent, a deep frown forming on his face. This was unexpected.  
  
'We cannot simply barrel in there and free Legolas by force. We need to find another   
way.'  
  
'But Legolas is alive and well?' Gudin asked, barely masking the worry in his voice.   
  
'Aye, he seemed not grievously wounded but we did not get close enough to make   
sure of this,' Elrohir answered.   
  
Elladan cast a look at Gimli, noticing the dwarf's absent look. It seemed he was deep   
in thought and he chose to wait until Gimli spoke up.   
  
'You did not recognize anyone in this camp?' the dwarf finally asked.  
  
'Nay,' Elladan shook his head.   
  
Gimli nodded, his face grim. 'If no one there knows us, then I might have an idea how   
to get that elf out of there.'  
  
But he refused to speak further, and leaving them, he began to search through his   
pack. Then he disappeared out of sight between some trees. The elves exchanged a   
troubled look, not sure what to make of this.  
  
'Has he lost his mind, or does he truly know a way?' Elrohir mumbled. His brother   
only shrugged, and as his words had been spoken in the elven tongue the three   
dwarves standing close to him did not understand them.   
  
A gasp of surprise escaped Elladan when he caught sight of Gimli again. The dwarf   
stepped back to his companions, and for a moment stunned silence reigned as five   
pairs of eyes stared at him in disbelief   
  
It was Elrohir who broke it first, and there was barely suppressed laughter in his   
voice.  
  
'By Elbereth, Gimli, what have you done?'  
  
The dwarf met his gaze in silence, and the look in his eyes was determined enough   
to make the chuckle die in the elf's throat. His hair, usually a deep red, had changed   
its color to a dark brown, close to black. Even his beard had taken on a matching   
color.  
  
Gimli's voice was calm as he spoke, carefully explaining the plan that had formed in   
his mind. His companions listened in silence. When he had finished, the twins   
exchanged a quick look ere Elladan spoke.  
  
'This sounds like folly to my ears.' He shook his head, regarding the dwarf with a long   
look. He could see Gimli bristle at his words and quickly raised a hand to silence him.   
'You do know that those who have ambushed and robbed you might be in this camp?   
That they might recognize you?'  
  
Gimli answered with a short laugh, shaking his own head now. 'To the eyes of men,   
all dwarves look the same. They can only keep us apart by the color of our hair or the   
kind of armor we wear.'   
  
He gestured towards his now dark hair, a grim smile forming on his face. 'They will   
not recognize me, not even if I stand right in front of them, for the dwarf they robbed   
had red hair.'   
  
The elves exchanged another glance, Elrohir giving the slightest of shrugs.  
  
'Folly it may be, but it might actually work,' he voiced their thoughts. 'And if not, we   
still have the option of taking Legolas out of there by force.'  
  
'So it is decided.' Gimli regarded his dwarven companions with a last questioning   
glance, receiving only nods. They would go with him.  
  
@@@  
  
The pain in his arm had become a constant, sapping his strength. The position   
Legolas was forced into put pressure on the broken bones that made it impossible for   
the elf's healing abilities to kick in.   
  
He had carefully checked out his surroundings, noticing the number of people living   
here. The camp had to be well hidden in the depth of these woods for no one to have   
discovered it by now. Still, he held no doubt that his friends would be able to find it.   
He knew Gimli well; the stubborn determination once he had set his mind to a task.   
And he knew the twins, had seen them at their best during many of their long hunting   
trips with the rangers.   
  
No, he held no doubt that they would find this place. The only thing that worried him   
was how much time he had left. The man Surdim would not leave him here in the   
care of a woman for long, he was sure of this. Once he was back, Legolas had the   
distinct feeling his life would not be spared for much longer.   
  
He let his eyes roam over his surroundings once more, trying to find something that   
would turn his attention from the burning pain in his arm. His gaze fell on the water   
skin still lying on the ground only a few feet away. Thirst burned in him and he tried to   
remind himself that he was an elf, he did not need water and food as mortals did. He   
could go without it if need be. But maybe the potion he had been forced to take had   
some lingering effect on him, for the burning longing only grew stronger.  
  
It was the sound of soft footsteps that alerted him to raise his eyes to the   
approaching figure. Dian stopped a few steps away, regarding him with a mixture of   
curiosity and contempt.   
  
Legolas held his gaze and in the end it was the boy that looked away, his gaze   
dropping to the ground. He moved suddenly, picking up the water skin and looked at   
Legolas once more. This time there was an expression in his eyes the elf could not   
read.   
  
'Do you want some water?' the boy asked, his voice giving away his insecurity.   
  
'Would you give some to me even if I said yes?' Legolas responded, reluctant to   
admit any kind of weakness towards this child.  
  
There was a flicker of surprise in Dain's eyes, telling the elf that such cruelness had   
not been on the boy's mind.   
  
They regarded each other silently for long moments ere the boy slowly took a step   
towards the bound elf, then another. He kept as much distance as possible as he   
held the water skin to Legolas's lips.   
  
The cool liquid was too alluring for him to resist, and only as he noticed the tiny   
expression of triumph in the child's eyes did Legolas realize he had been tricked. He   
jerked his head away, causing water to spill on his clothes as he spit out what he had   
not swallowed yet. Dian quickly stepped away from him, only to flinch and drop the   
water skin as a cry rang out.  
  
'Dian!'   
  
It was his mother, concern on her face as she rushed towards them. It quickly   
changed to something akin to anger as she took in the situation, quickly assessing   
what had happened.  
  
The taste was not as strong as it had been when the potion had been given to him   
the last time, but its effect was quickly felt. Although he had taken only a little of the   
water, Legolas could feel the numbness starting to creep through his mind.   
  
He hardly noticed the boy turning and running away, past his mother. His task was   
fulfilled--he had done as Surdim had told him to. But somewhere in the boy's heart   
there was an uncertainty as to if he had indeed done the right thing. The look of   
betrayal on the elf's fair features had shocked him more than he would have liked to   
admit.  
  
Clardyn remembered Surdim's words when she saw the water skin on the ground   
and the dark splotches on the elf's clothing. His eyes had lost some of their   
brightness, a glazed look coming over them. She could see he was fighting it, trying   
to focus on her. The look on his face was a mixture of betrayal and confusion, and   
she felt deep anger towards Surdim for making her son do this.  
  
'I am sorry,' she whispered, but he did not react to her words, his head falling back   
against the trunk he was tied to. She could see he was still awake but barely so.  
  
At least it helped to numb the pain, Legolas absentmindedly realized as he fought to   
keep some control over himself. 


	17. Closing in

Once more a huge thank you to everyone who took the time to review…  
  
to iverson: thanks for reviewing almost each single chapter while you went through   
my stories :-) … I almost dropped dead when I had 21 reviews on one morning :-).  
  
To P.Rico: thanks for your email :-). I hope you had time to catch up on your sleep :-)  
  
To everybody else: thank you! And yes, I will explain what Gimli used to color his hair   
– later…  
  
So, here is a short chapter… the next one is coming soon and this time for real! it is   
already written, I only need to go through the corrections my beta reader suggested –   
by the way: thanks to Little My!!!  
  
So, on with the story – and let me know if you like it!  
  
___  
  
  
Once more the dwarves simply followed the sons of Elrond, trusting them to find the   
way. When the elves stopped, they knew they were quite close to the camp.  
  
'If you continue in this direction,' Elladan whispered, 'you will reach the camp in about   
ten minutes. Two guards are posted, but they are easy to make out.'   
  
'Make sure you are ready to interfere should anything unexpected happen,' Gimli   
answered, his eyes already searching the woods before them.  
  
'"Anything unexpected"?' Elrohir repeated in quiet disbelief. 'This plan of yours is   
unexpected all by itself, to say the least.'   
  
'Do you have a better suggestion?' Gimli's eyes bored into the elf's. 'If so, I would be   
pleased to hear it. Do not think that I know not how unpredictable this situation is. But   
if I judge men correctly,' and there was a distinct tone of contempt in his lowered   
voice, 'and these men especially, then we might succeed with this.'  
  
'They will try to kill you,' Elrohir stated, his tone matter of fact.   
  
'I know. But not until we leave the camp again. Not in front of their wives and   
children. Not when we might be able to defend ourselves. They will follow us,   
ambush us when they think us unaware.'   
  
A grim smile played around the dwarf's lips and his eyes were hard as he added,   
'And if I am wrong, they will find that four dwarves make a formidable enemy.'  
  
'As do two elves, my friend,' Elladan added. ''You can trust us to stay close. We   
would not miss the fun should it start earlier than planned.'  
  
'We will hold you to your word,' Gudin spoke from behind them. The expression in his   
eyes matched those that could be seen in Gimli's and both of the elves. The same   
glitter shone in Cerin's and Furli's. Gone were the jovial dwarves, replaced by   
warriors prepared to fight if need be.  
  
Last looks were exchanged, then the two groups parted. The elves once again   
disappeared soundlessly into the shadows of the trees while the dwarves continued   
their march in the direction of the camp. They moved carefully but did not try overly to   
hide their approach.  
  
@@@  
  
The elves moved without a sound, quickly getting closer to the camp. They found a   
place in a tree from where they could oversee the area, keeping a close eye on the   
direction they knew the dwarves would come from.  
  
For a moment Elladan's eyes turned on the form of his friend, still tied to the tree. He   
could sense a change in Legolas, but knew not what to make of it.  
  
'Do you think Gimli's plan will work?' he whispered as he forced his concentration   
back on his task.  
  
A soft sigh answered his question. Then words, spoken so softly no mortal ear could   
have caught them.  
  
'I know not, but I fear there are too many things that could go wrong. But at least the   
dwarves will be inside the camp should things turn ill.'  
  
They fell into silence once more, their keen eyes searching for any sign of their   
approaching companions.   
  
@@@  
  
Warned by the elves, it was not hard to make out the two men guarding the camp.   
The dwarves had the advantage of surprise, and ere the guards had decided how to   
react to their sudden appearance they found themselves already surrounded.  
  
'Well met,' Gimli greeted them politely, giving a short bow.   
  
Both wore tattered and filthy clothes, but the swords they held ready were clean and   
well kept. It was obvious they were often used. One of them was young, no more   
than sixteen years old and his eyes shone with curiosity as well as a bit of fear. The   
other one seemed much older and his eyes quickly swept over them, taking in the   
way the four dwarves stood with their hands on their axes, but in a manner that   
spoke more of caution than of aggression. Seeing no immediate danger, he finally   
returned the greeting.   
  
Gimli ignored the mistrust and deviousness in his eyes as he spoke in a friendly tone.  
'We did not expect to meet anyone so deep in these woods, but it is a good thing we   
did. It seems we have lost our way here, and it would be most courteous if you could   
give us directions as to how to find our way again.'  
  
Pausing for only a moment, Gimli quickly added, 'Of course, we would reward you for   
your troubles.'  
  
The glimmer of greed ignited in the man's eyes was expected and exactly what Gimli   
had wished to obtain, but still it filled him with revulsion. But he kept his face neutral,   
waiting for the man's answer.  
  
He took a few moments, his mind racing. Dwarves were known to always carry an   
amount of gold, mithril and gems with them wherever they went. Four of them would   
be a great catch, but he knew well there was no way he and the boy would be able to   
overpower them. A fair fight was not their way of doing this anyway.  
  
'We would be pleased to help you,' he finally spoke in what he hoped to be his most   
pleasant voice. 'But you have come to be so deeply in these woods that I doubt you   
would find your way without a guardian to lead you. I would take you to my people so   
you can rest, and we will find someone to lead you.'  
  
He hoped they would not ask why he could not lead them himself, but obviously that   
thought did not occur to them for they only spoke a few words with each other before   
they agreed. He had to suppress a contemptuous smile as he moved to lead them   
towards the camp. So dwarves were truly the dull creatures he had always believed   
them to be.   
  
He did not see the bland expression in Gimli's eyes turn to brief triumph at how easy   
it had been to manipulate these man. The dwarf's sharp eyes did not miss anything   
on their way, as he did not trust the man leading them. He saw no sign of the elves   
but had not expected it either. The sound of voices grew louder, as well as the smell   
of burning fires.  
  
The trees retreated suddenly and unexpectedly, creating a clearing that was   
obviously not made by nature but by the hands of man.   
Small shacks littered the border of the clearing, some of them built so close to trees   
that they looked as if they leaned on them. The craftsmanship was poor, the eyes of   
the dwarf quickly noticed, and his contempt for these men only intensified. He could   
see women and children there, but in the middle of the clearing where a fire burned   
only men were sitting, smoking pipes or cleaning their weapons. They all had the   
tattered and filthy look of people who spend their life in the outdoors.   
  
And all of them stopped what they were doing to stare at the newcomers.   
  
Gimli ached to look around to see Legolas, but forced himself to keep his attention on   
the men before him. The next moment would decide whether his plan would come to   
fruition or not. 


	18. A Bargain

Thank you to all of you for reviewing even the shortest chapters!!!  
  
Here is the next one, as always thanks to Little My for beta reading!  
  
Oh… and laure: thanks for the candy... *blup* … the diet will start tomorrow :-)  
  
On with the story… and let me know if you like it!!!  
  
___  
  
A man rose to meet them, and his bearing left no doubt that he was the leader of this   
nice group of men who regarded the dwarves with less than friendly looks. He   
ignored the dwarves completely, his dark eyes boring into the man who had led them   
there.  
  
'These dwarves have lost their way,' the man spoke quickly, his voice having lost   
much of its confidence. 'I offered them our hospitality, and surely one of us will be   
able to lead them out of these woods.'  
  
As the dark eyes finally turned on the dwarves, Gimli quickly stepped forward, bowing   
low.  
  
'Ilmig, son of Niolg, at your service,' he spoke, careful to keep his tone pleasant. His   
companions mirrored his gesture but offered their real names. For them there was no   
reason not to do so.  
  
The man returned a hint of a bow. 'Karim,' he offered his own name. 'Pleased to   
meet you.' His eyes had quickly assessed them, and Gimli could not shake the   
feeling that he was already counting the pieces of gold each of them carried with him.   
  
'Of course you are welcome, and we will help you to find your way. Where is it that   
you desire to go?"   
  
'To the Lonely Mountain,' Gimli answered. 'But these woods must be cursed by   
elves, for we lost our way and would still be wandering without knowledge of where   
we are had we not met your men.'  
  
With these words he turned to the one who had led them, and fumbling in the pouch   
at his belt he tried to ignore the greedy looks that passed over many faces watching   
him. Finally, he produced a small piece of gold and handed it to the man.  
  
'I said you would be rewarded for your help,' he said and bowed once more. Then he   
turned away, trying hard not to laugh at the suddenly innocent faces looking at him.   
  
He used the moment to take a long look around, and finally his gaze came to rest   
upon what he had been searching for. For a moment his heart constricted as he saw   
the still figure of his dearest friend. He was a good fifty feet away but Gimli instantly   
recognized the golden hair. What worried him was that Legolas did not move. He sat   
on the ground, tied to a tree just like Elladan had told him. But his head hung low, his   
chin resting on his chest and the fall of hair hiding his face.  
  
Feeling Karim's inquiring gaze, Gimli realized he had stared a moment too long to   
hide his interest in the captive elf. So he chose a course of action as he let surprise   
show on his face.   
  
With a gesture towards the bound form he asked, 'What is this? A captive?'   
  
With curiosity plain on his face he started to move towards the captive, neatly   
evading the restraining arm and continuing as if he had not noticed. Halfway towards   
Legolas, he froze.  
  
'What is this? An elf!'   
  
He turned to look at the man who had hurried after him. His fellow dwarves had   
followed him, and he could hear their exclamations of feigned surprise and   
excitement.  
  
'An elf, indeed.'  
  
'An elf!'  
  
Gimli's eyes, wide with wonder and enthusiasm, met Karim's. He could see the   
guarded look in them as if he was not entirely sure what to make of this.  
  
'What business do you have with an elf? And one who bears the colors of Mirkwood?'   
the dwarf asked, the right tone of excitement coloring his voice.  
  
Karim was at a loss of what to say. He had seen Surdim bring the elf into the camp   
but had refrained from asking him what it was about. Not even he, a ruthless man   
who had led this group of bush rangers and thieves for years now, wished to cross   
this man. So he had simply ignored the captive until now.  
  
'An Mirkwood elf!' Gimli said again with relish. His eyes shone as he looked at the still   
form once more.  
  
'Does he still live?'  
  
'Aye,' Karim answered. He had seen the elf talk to Dian earlier.   
  
Gimli took a few more steps towards the elf, carefully looking him over. Then he   
turned to Karim once more.  
  
'What do you want with him?'  
  
For a moment the man looked dumbfounded, completely taken by surprise. His main   
concern had been that the dwarves might grow suspicious of them. It would have   
jeopardized the plan he had for his unsuspecting guests. This turn of events was   
unexpected.   
  
As he received no answer, Gimli asked again, 'What do you want with him? Surely an   
elf is of no use to you. I would pay a good price if you gave him to me.'  
  
'What use would the elf be to you?' the man could not help but ask. He knew elves   
and dwarves were not overly fond of each other, but here he sensed something else.  
  
Gimli's eyes flashed as he took another step closer towards the elf.   
  
'My father was taken captive by the elves of Mirkwood,' he spoke with as much   
venom and hate as he could muster. He hoped the ongoing hostility between the   
dwarves of the Lonely Mountain and the elves of Mirkwood was known to these men.   
'He was held captive in their dungeons and had to endure much from their hands.'  
  
At the look in his eyes, even his fellow dwarves almost believed him as he spoke on.  
  
'I wish to have this elf to give him to my father.'  
  
Clardyn had stepped out of her small hut, her heart clenching as she heard the   
dwarf's words. Her eyes turned on the still form of the elf and her heart went out to   
him. With quiet disbelief she heard Karim's answer.  
  
'What is it you would offer for the elf, master dwarf?'  
  
'You have no right to do this,' she cried as she stepped in front of the elf. 'He is   
Surdim's captive--you cannot sell him as if he was a piece of meat.'  
  
The man ignored her, his attention focused on the dwarf. Her eyes wandered over   
them, seeking for any kind of support but finding none.   
  
Once more Gimli fumbled in his pouch and offered a handful of gold. The man looked   
at it, then down into the dwarf's eyes. A cold smile played around his lips.   
  
'Is this all he is worth to you?'  
  
For a moment Gimli felt compelled to wipe the smile off his face. Instead he forced   
himself to smile back.  
  
'You drive a hard bargain.'  
  
What he carried with him was a small fortune, but he quickly noticed that gold did not   
evoke the certain glimmer of greed in Karim's eyes that would tell him that he had   
won. Maybe it was the man's belief that he would gain all the dwarves carried with   
them anyway.   
  
Gimli's fingers once more searched his pouch, as he thought of anything he could   
offer. He had not expected the man to be so reluctant, had hoped that the offer of   
gold would be enough to sway him into handing the elf over.   
  
His fingers touched a familiar form and as always a slight stab of pain pierced his   
heart. Then an idea occurred and for a moment he was undecided, not wishing to   
part with a thing so precious. But one look at Legolas was all that was needed for him   
to lose any doubt of what to do.  
  
His fingers closed around the object and carefully he took it out, holding it for a   
moment so only he could see it ere laying it out on the palm of his hand. The   
delicately wrought necklace sparkled as the mithril caught and reflected the rays of   
the sun and the rubies seemed to shine with a light of their own. 


	19. To Buy an Elf

I am sorry for my long silence – work kept me too busy to even think of writing…   
But I met my deadline and have some free time now – the first since one month!  
  
I must say it was very nice to have so many people asking what happened to me via   
reviews and emails – thanks for missing me :-))))  
  
So here is the next chapter. I thank all of you for sticking with me and waiting for my   
return…  
  
Special thanks to Little My for beta reading!  
  
And…as always… let me know if you like it …  
___  
  
The moment the man's eyes fell on the sparkling piece of jewelry, Gimli knew he had   
won. Karim's face showed no emotion, but for the shortest moment something   
flickered in the depths of his eyes. Greed. The dwarf could not help the wave of   
contempt washing over him.  
  
The necklace was taken from his hand and he had to force himself to keep still as   
everything in him rebelled against it being touched by foul fingers. But another short   
look at the still form of Legolas held Gimli frozen in place. In the end it was only   
mithril and rubies, he tried to tell himself, and while it held many memories for him its   
worth still paled in comparison to the worth this one's life had for him. So Gimli did   
not move but watched as Karim turned it over in his hands to look at it.  
  
Finally the man's eyes came up to meet those of the dwarf.  
  
'It seems this elf is worth much to you,' he taunted.  
  
'He is worth much to my father,' Gimli answered. He could see the fight going on in   
the man as his fingers closed around the beautiful object. He was reluctant to let the   
prisoner go, but greed won.  
  
@@@  
  
'Who would have thought this dwarf to be so good an actor?' Elrohir mumbled,   
shaking his head in a mixture of awe and disbelief. A low chuckle answered from his   
left where his brother crouched next to him. It had been all too easy to circle the   
camp and find a place from where they could watch the dwarves.   
  
'Aye, if I knew no better, I would fear for Legolas,' Elladan whispered his eyes never   
leaving the man Gimli was speaking to. Their keen ears had missed no word of the   
conversation, and things were going far better then they had expected.   
'The deal is made.'  
  
They watched as the man accepted the price for the captive elf, gesturing towards   
Legolas.   
  
The dwarves turned, but Gimli had taken no more than one step towards his friend   
when a small figure blocked his way.  
  
@@@  
  
'You cannot take him,' Dian cried. He was not much smaller than Gimli, and he tried   
hard to look determined but was not able to hide the small flicker of uncertainty in his   
eyes. 'He is Surdim's captive; you have no right to take him away.'  
  
The small spark of amusement Gimli felt at seeing a child stand up to him died upon   
hearing this name. For a moment he was at a loss of where he had heard it before   
but unease filled his heart. Then memory returned and his eyes darkened in anger.   
He remembered too well what had been done to Legolas that night.   
  
Not knowing the fire in the dwarf's eyes was not directed at him, the child took a step   
backwards in fright. Clardyn quickly stepped to her son's side, her arms wrapping   
around his shoulders in a gesture of comfort.   
  
Gimli ignored her as he continued his way towards the unmoving elf. His eyes took in   
the details he had missed before when he had been careful to not show too much   
care. Legolas was slumped forward, only the bonds holding him upright. Gimli could   
see the uneven falling and rising of his chest, speaking of a slightly erratic and too   
fast breathing pattern. A curtain of golden hair concealed the face, but as he stepped   
closer Gimli could not shake the feeling that his friend was not as unconscious as he   
had thought. But he showed no reaction to his surroundings, although he could not   
have missed the conversation.   
  
Gimli's step faltered as he was unsure how to proceed. They had been able to get   
thus far without trouble and had Legolas been awake, the dwarf would not have had   
a doubt that the elf would play the part of the hostile Mirkwood elf to perfection. But   
as he showed no sign of awareness, Gimli knew not how he would react to seeing   
them. If he gave them away, there would be no other solution then to fight their way   
out of this situation.  
  
But ere Gimli had finished his line of thought, Karim moved with quick strides to the   
captive's side. There was a cruel smirk on his face as he grabbed a handful of golden   
hair, forcing Legolas's head up. Wide eyes in a too pale face were revealed, but it   
was the look in the dark eyes that made Gimli's heart clench. They were unfocused   
and held utter confusion mixed with something that bordered on panic. Legolas tried   
to break free but did not succeed in yanking his head away. For a moment he fought   
but neither the man's grasp nor the bonds holding him gave away, and then his face   
tightened in an expression of pain and his struggles ceased as he slumped against   
the tree once more.  
  
Keeping the rage from his face was the hardest thing Gimli had ever done. To not   
lash out and end the cruel display but stand still and watch took all the willpower he   
possessed. It was his dearest and closest friend he witnessed being treated like this.   
But even as his face did not show any reaction, his eyes flashed with the rage and   
hatred he felt in this moment.   
  
Clardyn stood frozen, watching the scene. She felt sick at what was happening here   
and even more so for she knew that there was naught she could do. Her fingers   
tightened their hold on her son, wishing he did not have to witness something like   
this.   
  
Her eyes wandered to the dwarf standing there, expecting to see the same   
expression of amusement she could see on Karim's face. It was with great surprise   
that she took in his expressionless features, and with a slight shock, the burning   
hatred in his eyes. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared but she knew she had   
seen it. For a moment she thought it was directed towards the elf until she realized   
his gaze was fixed on Karim.   
  
She hardly noticed when the man let go of the elf and his head fell forward again. A   
memory fought to rise, and with her eyes never leaving Gimli's face, she tried to   
grasp it. Then as if feeling her gaze on him, the dwarf's eyes shifted to meet hers and   
suddenly she made the connection. She knew, unlike Karim and his men, who   
Legolas was. She had lived in Minas Tirith when the nine companions had been   
celebrated. She knew of Legolas the elf and his unusual friendship with Gimli the   
dwarf. Suddenly she understood what was going on here, and an overwhelming   
sense of relief washed over her.   
  
'Is he wounded?' Gimli's voice betrayed nothing of what he truly felt. Neither the deep   
concern over the elf's condition, nor the rising anger.  
  
'Nothing serious,' Karim answered, his voice uncaring. He had recognized the look in   
Legolas's eyes and knew the elf had been given a draught. It was a common thing to   
slip it into the water or food of an intended victim and wait until its effect took away   
any resistance. It was so much easier to rob a sleeping man of his belongings and be   
long gone ere he woke than to risk a fight.  
  
A dagger flashed in the man's hand as he bent down to cut through the bonds that   
held Legolas. As they fell away the elf sank forward, his arms limp at his sides.   
Before he had a chance to recover, he was grabbed and forced to his feet. For a   
moment Legolas swayed ere he regained his balance. Legs that had not moved for   
too long could hardly keep him upright. He blinked a few times but his eyes did not   
clear.  
  
Silently Gimli stood and watched as Karim tied the elf's wrists together behind his   
back. He could see the pain on his friend's face and his eyes wandered over the   
slender form, trying to find the cause of it. He could see the dried blood on his throat   
but found no other traces. But what wounds might be concealed by the elf's clothing,   
he had no way of knowing. He heard Karim calling for a new rope that was quickly   
brought. Gimli's fists clenched as he saw what the man intended to do with it.   
  
'I do not think this is necessary.' He could not stop himself from intervening. 'We are   
perfectly capable of holding one elf under control.'  
  
'Do not underestimate him, my friend,' Karim answered. 'Right now he is under the   
influence of a draught that makes him quite meek, but as soon as it wears off you will   
have your hands full in keeping him under control.'  
  
Gimli could not risk arguing any further, and willing himself to stay calm he watched   
as the rope was tied to a sling that was fastened around Legolas's neck.   
  
'Now you have an elf on a leash,' Karim sneered as he held the rope out to Gimli.   
The dwarf found himself unable to move, not ready to participate in humiliating his   
friend like this. Although he knew Legolas had to be far gone to not even try to fight   
them, he could not bring himself to take the rope from the man's hand. It was Gudin   
who took a quick step forward, accepting the offered rope.  
  
'Well,' the man said. 'This bargain is done, so we can turn to more comfortable things   
now. Do you feel hungry, my friends?'  
  
Disgusted at being repeatedly entitled 'friend', Gimli only shook his head.  
  
'I am sorry to decline,' he lied smoothly, 'but we need to make haste. Especially now   
as we have another burden to drag along.'  
  
Karim was quick to hide his disappointment.  
  
'Then I will send one of my men with you to show you the way,' he answered, and   
without waiting for a reply he turned away, calling out a name.  
  
'Too generous of you,' Gimli mumbled.   
  
A man appeared at Karim's side and it was all Gimli could do to not show any   
reaction upon seeing him. He remembered the face well, and grim satisfaction welled   
up as he realized he had found one of those men who had attacked him.   
  
Karim turned to the dwarves once more.  
  
'Jerim will lead you through the forest and to the way that leads to the Lonely   
Mountain,' he said, gesturing to the man at his side. There was no recognition in the   
man's face as his gaze met Gimli's.   
  
The farewell was short and no one seemed to take any notice of the woman still   
standing and watching the group of dwarves. She knew these men well enough to   
realize that Karim did not plan on simply letting them go. Not when they knew the   
location of the hidden camp and still carried some gold with them. She knew the trick   
of a man sent to lead a group through the forest, but instead leading them into a trap.   
Everything inside of her cried out in warning; she did not wish the dwarves to meet   
their doom.   
  
But as she watched Gimli, the feeling dawned that he knew quite well what kind of   
game Karim was playing. She could see the man's behavior, his way of talking to the   
dwarf and a grim smile lit her face. She could see what Karim so obviously missed as   
he underestimated Gimli's wit. It was no longer a case of a group of unsuspecting   
travelers being led into a trap, but a group of keen-minded hunters leading a group of   
thieves into a trap.  
  
They were ready to go and Gimli cast one more glance at Legolas. The elf was   
standing upright but still had the same lost look in his eyes that told Gimli he was no   
more aware of his surroundings then before. He ached to speak to his friend, to call   
out to him and get him back from whatever place his mind seemed to be lost in. But   
not here, not in front of so many eyes watching them. Instead, his eyes turned to   
Gudin who held the rope with a barely concealed look of contempt and seemed   
reluctant to force Legolas into moving.  
  
With an expression of disgust that Gimli did not need to fake, although it was not   
aimed at the elf, he gave Legolas a push, causing him to stumble a step forward.  
  
'Get moving, elf,' Gimli growled.  
  
Upon hearing his voice, Legolas showed some reaction for the first time. His head   
turned and his eyes struggled to focus on Gimli's face. Knowing he could not risk the   
elf recognizing him right now, Gimli grabbed his arm, propelling him forward a little   
more roughly. He could see a flicker of pain cross Legolas's face and hated himself   
for doing this to his friend. It was Gudin who took over now, grabbing the elf's arm   
and tugging him along. If anyone found it odd that he would not use the leash as it   
was intended, no one commented on it.   
  
His senses dulled by the effect of the draught, Legolas was barely able to keep   
awake and was far from finding the strength to fight. He was hardly able to   
understand what was going on, needing all his willpower to stay on his feet. The   
voices he heard made no sense as he could not grasp the words they uttered.   
  
Once, he had thought he heard a voice that seemed familiar, one he trusted without   
knowing why. But as he tried to concentrate, to break through the fog that seemed to   
clog his mind, he was pushed and the sharp pain of the ungentle touch on his broken   
arm washed away everything else. When the pain ebbed away, once more dulled by   
the power of the drug in his blood, he knew no longer what it was he had been trying   
to grasp.   
  
So he stumbled along, following the pull of a hand on his arm, this time the   
unwounded one. He knew not where he was going and who led him but resistance   
was far from his mind. He needed all his strength of will to stay upright and moving. 


	20. Trying to Escape

Belatedly Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all my dear readers and   
reviewers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
A great thank you to all of you for the many reviews I received for the last chapter…   
and a special thanks goes to Stephanie for sending me that nice email – it did push   
me into writing as soon as I had recovered from the last weeks :I had a 3 week   
business trip, birthday, christmas and new year… and all of it in december … so no   
time for writing… but now the worst is over and here is a short chapter just to say hi   
to all of you!!!  
  
As always: special thank you to Little My for beta reading !!!  
  
So, on with the story…  
  
Oh… and please… do not forget to tell me if you like it!!!  
  
___  
  
It was a silent group that followed Jerim as he led the way through the forest. Only   
the sound of footsteps assured the man that they were still behind him and the   
ongoing silence unnerved him. From time to time he cast a look backward only to find   
the dwarves walking behind him in the same manner as before, the elf in the middle   
of their group.   
  
Gimli stayed close behind the man, as much to keep an eye on him as to avoid   
looking at Legolas. It was hard enough to keep the simmering anger under control   
without seeing the usual graceful elf struggling to stay on his feet. They were still too   
close to the camp. But soon... A feral grin appeared on the dwarf's face for a   
moment and his fingers tightened around his axe as he allowed himself to think of the   
near future.   
  
Putting one foot in front of the other, Legolas fought against the mist that seemed to   
have covered his mind. Struggling to remember, to make sense of his surroundings,   
the elf desperately tried to shake off the lingering effect of the draught he had been   
given repeatedly. But it was strong; a poison that even his elven constitution could   
not eliminate that easily. Weakened as he was, it took most of his strength to keep   
going but his warrior instincts rebelled against trudging along so meekly. He tried to   
move his arms again and this time, over the sharp pain shooting through him causing   
him to almost stumble had there not been a tight grip on his arm that held him   
upright, another realization dawned. His hands were bound.  
  
The shock of this revelation seemed to clear his mind for a moment, enough to allow   
one definite thought to form: he had to get away. Looking around, he could see the   
forms of his captors --there were not too many of them. He was so used to the   
advantage of elven speed that the thought that whatever was hindering his abilities to   
walk and think might also tamper with any attempt at escape never occurred to his   
befuddled mind.   
  
His sudden movement took Gudin by surprise as Legolas suddenly pulled away,   
turning and taking off sideways into the protection of the forest. For a moment the   
dwarf stood frozen, then he cried out.  
  
'Legolas!'   
  
The sudden sound of less than nimble elven feet had already alerted his   
companions; the cry made them rush to his side. But Gudin was already following the   
elf.  
  
With a curse Gimli followed them, his quick mind understanding what had happened.   
It should had been expected, he realized--the state the elf was in would hardly keep   
him from at least trying to flee. The sound of trampling feet behind him told Gimli the   
others were following them as his eyes found Gudin's shape not far ahead.   
  
Legolas ran but his feet seemed slow--much too slow, for he could hear his pursuers   
close behind. Frustration built as his body seemed to refuse to obey his orders,   
moving too sluggishly. Then his foot got caught and he stumbled, his shoulder   
connecting with a tree. A sharp cry of pain escaped him as once more his broken   
bones were jolted, and for a moment darkness wavered at the edges of his vision.   
But the wish to escape proved stronger as he once more forced himself to his feet.   
  
Gudin came to a stop in front of the elf, just as he struggled to his feet again. He did   
not wish to harm Legolas, so he hesitated for just a moment too long. Once more   
Legolas turned to flee. But this time his way was blocked as the form of the man   
appeared in front of him. Longer legs and less amour had been Jerim's advantage in   
this race, and he had overtaken the dwarves and chosen the way of a practiced   
hunter, cutting short the flight of his prey. He showed none of the dwarf's hesitation in   
harming the elf as the hilt of his knife crashed against Legolas's unprotected head.   
Without a sound, the elf collapsed.  
  
It was the last straw.  
  
With a howl of outrage Gimli lunged at the man, not caring about their plan any   
longer. Within a heartbeat Jerim found himself on his back, the knife lost and an   
enraged dwarf's axe at his throat. Not understanding what had caused this, he stared   
up into a pair of burning eyes filled with fury and hate, and for the first time in his life   
he knew a mind-numbing fear.  
  
'Pray that he lives.'  
  
It was Gudin who gently moved the still form of the elf, turning him on his side. His   
fingers found a pulse and true relief colored his voice as he called out: 'He lives!'  
  
The axe was withdrawn but the expression in Gimli's eyes did not change. For a long   
moment he looked at the trembling man ere he rose to stand, disgust on his face. A   
short command and Cerin appeared, axe in hand to stand next to the man without   
ever looking at him. Yet Jerim knew better than to even try to move.  
  
'What do we do now?'  
  
Gimli ignored the question as he kneeled next to his friend, taking in the pale features   
and the small trickle of blood running over his face and closed eyelids. With a growl   
he removed a small knife from his belt, but his fingers were gentle as they sought the   
rope that bound Legolas's wrists together. He cut the bonds without the blade ever   
touching the elf's skin, as hands that were able to fashion the most delicate of jewelry   
took care to not inflict further harm. Then he moved Legolas onto his back, carefully   
arranging his arms to lie at his sides.   
  
It was then as he moved the elf's left arm that something felt wrong. Sharp eyes   
inspected the limb more carefully. The wrist guard still seemed intact, covering most   
of the forearm. Grasping the elf's left hand in his own, Gimli gently turned the limp   
arm to have a closer look. He could feel an unusual heat and with a quick look he   
compared the fingers he held with Legolas's right hand to confirm his suspicion: they   
were slightly swollen, indicating an injury still hidden from the eye. Once more the   
dwarf used his knife with uttermost care, slicing through the bindings that kept the   
wrist guard around the elf's arm. Gudin knelt next to him, watching with concern, his   
hands reaching out to remove the leather once it was free.   
  
What it revealed caused a mixture of renewed anger as well as self-disgust to rise in   
Gimli. The bones were clearly broken, and their sharp endings had cut through the   
thin layer of muscle and skin that covered them. He could only imagine what kind of   
agony it must have caused to be bound like Legolas had been with an injury like this.   
To think he could have eased his friend's pain if only he had removed the bonds.  
  
'I do not remember this being part of your plan, friend Gimli.' A soft voice broke   
through Gimli's dark thoughts. Raising his head, he looked into the smiling face of   
one dark-haired elf. But the silver eyes held no mirth.   
  
'How does he fare?'  
  
Even without seeing the ring on the elf's hand, Gimli knew who he was.  
  
'I would think you know more of this than I,' Gimli answered, to find the elf kneeling at   
his side within the blink of an eye. Long fingers touched Legolas's brow for a moment   
ere they wandered to feel along the broken bones, doing what Gimli had been afraid   
of.  
  
'Both bones are broken,' the elf whispered. 'I need water and bandages, and   
something to splint his arm.'   
  
The sound of movement told them that at least one dwarf hurried to bring what   
Elrohir had asked for.  
  
'Elladan?' Gimli's voice was only a whisper, his eyes still focused on Legolas's face.  
  
'He still watches the camp. They prepared to follow you, at least ten of them. A very   
brave kind of men they are.'  
  
It came as no surprise and still it evoked another burst of anger.   
  
'What is this?'   
  
Now it was Elrohir's voice that had lost some of its calm as his fingers touched the   
rope still around Legolas's neck. With another growl that said more than many words,   
Gimli reached out. He gently lifted the elf's head from the ground, keeping his temper   
in check so as not to rip the offending thing away, and removed it with care. He held   
it up without a word and it was taken from his hands without prompting.   
  
Gudin handed it to Cerin who shot their prisoner a dark look. The man did not need   
further explanations but held up his hands to be tied. He winced at the strength the   
dwarf used to secure his wrists together but knew better than to voice his protest.   
Even if he did not understand why, he knew the dwarves to be much enraged and his   
tongue had frozen in fear.  
  
Furli returned, handing water to Elrohir and darting away again to find something that   
could be used as a splint. His fingers moving faster than the eye could follow, the elf   
cleaned away the dried blood from Legolas's arm. After a quick look at Legolas's face   
to check that the elf had not awoken, Elrohir grasped the arm and with a quick pull   
and some pressure the bones slipped back into their accustomed places. Just in   
time, bandages and wooden splints were handed over and within a few moments the   
arm was tightly wrapped up.   
  
'It should heal quickly,' Elrohir spoke, knowing Gimli was waiting to hear it.  
  
Then he rose, the healer turning into a warrior within a heartbeat.  
  
'We should prepare. They draw nearer.'  
  
'Let them come!'  
  
It was Gudin who spoke, his eyes alight with battle lust. 


	21. A Long Expected Fight

As so many asked for a quick update for this story in their reviews – even in those for   
'Mending and Breaking' – I managed for once to fulfill this request…  
  
So for all of you who take the time to let me know how much you like my stories: a   
big thank you !!!  
  
And another one to Little My for patiently removing endless errors from my writing :-)  
  
So, on with the story – and please: keep those many reviews coming… I love them!!!  
___  
  
'What are we to do with the elf?' It was Gudin who spoke as Gimli rose to stand.   
  
The dwarf's eyes turned on Elrohir. 'Will he awaken soon?'  
  
The elf shook his head. 'There is some kind of poison in his system that slows down   
his healing abilities. He will not wake within the next few hours, I fear.'  
  
'Maybe for the better,' Gimli sighed. As fierce a warrior as Legolas was, with a broken   
arm he would have been more at a disadvantage than Gimli would have liked. 'We   
will leave him here and draw the fight in another direction.'   
  
His hands were already undoing the brooch that held his cloak around his shoulders,   
the same one the Lady Galadriel had gifted him with during the quest for the ring.   
Covering the still form with it, he ignored the looks of surprise on his companions'   
faces. To leave Legolas behind like this might be a risk, but he knew of no other way.   
  
He turned to their captive, a dangerous light glimmering in his eyes that made the   
man cringe away in fear.  
  
'Do you remember me?'  
  
Confusion but no recognition showed on his face.  
  
'You waylaid a dwarf some days ago and took something from him,' Gimli hissed. 'A   
small thing only, but I want it back.'  
  
A light dawned in the man's eyes and relief at understanding what the dwarf wanted,   
only to be quickly clouded by fear.  
  
'I do not have it anymore,' he whimpered.  
  
'Who does?'  
  
'Surdim took it away from me,' he spoke quickly, hoping to turn the dwarf's ire away   
from himself.  
  
Gimli's eyes darkened as he stepped away. Surdim again. He would truly enjoy   
facing this man once more. But this time he knew the man would not get away as   
easily as the last time.  
  
Another look at their captive showed him that Cerin and Furli had taken care of him.   
His bound hands were high above his head, tied to the branch of a tree, making it   
impossible for the man to get away. A piece of cloth had been found to gag him to   
prevent him from betraying them.   
  
With one last glance towards the still form, barely visible beneath the protection of the   
Lorien cloak even though he knew where to look, Gimli turned, giving the signal to   
leave.  
  
'He will be safe,' Elrohir's soft voice assured the dwarf, who felt greatly uneasy   
leaving his friend behind like this, unaware and defenseless.  
  
Gimli did not answer, his face grim, and the elf turned to lead them back the way they   
had come. They moved away from the place where Legolas rested until they were   
sure the distance was safe, then without the need of many words they separated,   
hiding in the deep underbrush of the surrounding forest. They did not need to wait for   
long, although the minutes that passed seemed to last forever. Then the cry of a bird,   
unsuspicious to ears that did not wait for it, told them that Elladan was close.  
  
Soon after that the sound of footsteps, stealthy but still recognizable, neared and   
dwarves and elf tensed up.  
  
The men making their way along the visible trail the dwarves had left came to   
ambush a group of unsuspecting victims, rendered helpless by the draught Jerim   
should have mixed into their food or water. They did not expect to be waylaid by   
those they thought to be far ahead of them, and so they were taken completely by   
surprise as a sudden war cry rose from Gimli's throat and four dwarves with raised   
axes attacked them.  
  
It would have been a comical sight, indeed, if anyone would have taken the time to   
watch it. Shock, surprise and even terror were on the men's faces and two of them   
even dropped their weapons in sudden fright. They had not become bush rangers for   
their bravery or fighting skills, and even though they were twelve they stood no   
chance against four enraged dwarves. Even though it had been an elf who had been   
taken captive and hurt, he was a friend, and dear to all of them. And the hurt Gimli   
had taken had not been forgotten either.   
  
With relish, Gimli swung his axe at a man who had collected his wits fast enough to   
use his sword. His fellow dwarves had found adversaries as well, showing in a most   
impressive way that size did not matter if a weapon was wielded with skill.   
  
Five had already fallen ere the men had recovered from their shock. Two of them   
were still standing, a dazed look upon their faces as if they knew not what had hit   
them. Three remembered that they had legs and how to use them, turning in sudden   
terror from the sight of four deadly monsters coming after them. Yet they did not get   
far, as from nowhere a tall figure emerged to send arrows flying towards them. It was   
the last straw for the courage of men who had never before faced a fair fight and   
panic seized them. With disgust Elladan shook his head but kept his bow trained on   
the quivering men before him. They stood rooted to the spot, eyes wide with fright,   
their weapons long forgotten.  
  
Those who had dared to fight were easily overcome--only Karim still stood, his sword   
in hand and his eyes darting around. He could see his fallen men and yelled to those   
still on their feet.  
  
'Fight, you cowards!'  
  
But they did not move, their lives too precious to them as they faced either the bow of   
Elladan or the axe of a dwarf.  
  
'He belongs to me,' Gimli growled and no one spoke a word of protest.   
  
Karim turned to face him, sweat on his brow and his eyes filled with something   
between fear and fury.  
  
'Come,' he hissed, raising his sword. 'I will cut off your head.'  
  
'That promise I have heard before,' Gimli answered, a grim smile on his face. 'Yet no   
one has gone through with it yet, as you can easily tell.'  
  
The man lunged at him, but his sword was met and the blow shook him more than   
the dwarf. He might have been the one most skilled with a sword among his men but   
he had never faced an opponent of Gimli's skill.  
  
Ere he had recovered, the back of the axe crashed into his side, not cutting but   
hitting him with all the strength of a dwarf. He cried out as pain washed through him   
and staggered sideways.   
  
Gimli stood, watching him with quiet calm but not moving in for another blow. The   
man rallied himself after a few moments, looking at him with a dazed expression. He   
clearly did not understand why he still lived.  
  
'Come on,' Gimli taunted. 'My head is still where it belongs.'  
  
Something in the man's eyes shifted and with a cry of rage he charged again. Once   
more his attack was blocked as the dwarf moved with much more speed than one   
would expect. Yet fury directed Karim, and he rained down blow after blow on Gimli   
without thought or aim, only wishing to bring down his opponent.  
  
Elrohir had kept himself behind the dwarves, not taking part in the fight but keeping   
watch that no one could get past them and get anywhere near to where they had left   
Legolas. But he did not need to interfere, as the dwarves seemed to have the   
situation completely under control. His brother had stopped anyone from fleeing back   
to the camp. He met Elladan's eyes for a moment, a short glance between them   
enough to agree that Gimli's plan had succeeded after all.   
  
His attention turned to the duel going on right in front of him and an amused smile   
grazed his features. The man was out of breath, sweat running down his face as he   
delivered one more blow that Gimli easily dodged. It lacked force as the man's   
strength was by now waning. Yet Gimli had not even started to really participate in   
this fight.  
  
Something else claimed the elf's attention and he turned his head, focusing on   
something he had heard for a moment, before silently slipping away into the trees.  
  
For a moment Karim faltered and it was then that the axe came down, hitting his   
shoulder, but once more only with its back--and the sound of breaking bones could   
be clearly heard. It was quite obviously not Gimli's intention to kill. With a howl of pain   
the man sank to his knees, his sword slipping from useless fingers.  
  
'Ai,' Gimli exclaimed, taking a quick step backwards. 'A broken arm is truly a painful   
thing, is it not?'   
  
He looked at the man who had doubled up in pain, oblivious to the dwarf's taunting.   
With a sigh, Gimli shook his head. 'Maybe you should have bound me first, ere you   
made your idle promise,' he spoke as he turned from the man. 'You might have had a   
chance in succeeding, then.'  
  
They herded the men together, Elladan's bow more than enough to keep them meek.   
Gimli pointed at one of them.  
  
'You, go and care for your wounded. But dare not to make a wrong move.'  
  
The man complied, fear on his face.  
  
'What now?' Gimli asked and his eyes sought Elladan's.   
  
The elf smiled at him.   
  
'It is your plan, friend dwarf. What do you suggest now?'  
  
The dwarf glared at him for a moment, not sure if he was being mocked. Then he   
shrugged, taking a long look around.  
  
'Well,' he spoke, 'we have Legolas back. But this is not why we came here. Only that   
elf's ability of getting himself into trouble did force us to lose sight of our aim.'  
  
He studied the faces of the men for a long moment. Then he spoke again.  
  
'The one called Surdim is not among these. And I still need to reclaim what belongs   
to me.'  
  
'So you will return to the camp?'   
  
'If my count is correct, not many men have remained there?'  
  
'Nay,' Elladan replied. 'Two stayed behind, but they are no more than boys. The   
women and children I did not count.'  
  
'So I would suggest we return to settle matters with the one who took so great a liking   
to Legolas to keep him bound to a tree,' Gimli spoke, but there was no mirth in his   
eyes.   
  
'Our captives?'  
  
Gimli hesitated. Six had been taken alive.  
  
'If we had rope enough, I would like to teach them the joy of being bound to a tree,'   
he mumbled. 'We have no choice but to leave them here, bound or under guard.'  
  
It was then that Elrohir appeared from between the trees, a frown on his face.  
  
'We will have to wait but a little longer. I fear our plans will have to change; if for the   
better, I cannot tell,' he spoke.  
  
'Why?' The dwarf's eyes bored into him.  
  
'A group is approaching from the West. Riders. I cannot tell who they are, but they   
are twenty at least.'  
  
'This could be ill news!' Gimli exclaimed.   
  
'Aye,' Elladan acknowledged, the smile gone from his face.   
  
'Or maybe not,' his brother countered.  
  
'We will see. Prepare yourselves to disappear in haste if need be,' Elladan said. 'We   
will return quickly and meet you at the place we left Legolas.'  
  
With that the elves disappeared silently into the trees once more.  
  
'These woods are getting crowded,' Gimli grumbled. 


	22. Spying

Once more: thank you to all of you for the unbelievable amount of reviews I have received so far. as English is not my first language I am more than happy to hear how well my stories are written. :-) and how much you enjoy them. a big thank you goes to my beta reader Little My!!!  
  
so many asked for an update but RL is intruding once more and limited is my time for writing. so this chapter is very short, but I will try hard to post the next one as soon as possible.  
  
So thanks to my faithful readers and one extra big thank you to everyone who took the time to write a review. It is deeply appreciated!!!  
  
So, on with the story. and please. let me know if you like it  
  
___  
  
The twins silently passed through the woods, and no word was spoken until they had moved out of earshot of the dwarves. Then Elladan's hand came to rest upon Elrohir's arm, an enquiring glance directed at his brother. It was all that was needed between them for Elrohir to understand the question on his brother's mind.  
  
'I do not believe them to be bushrangers,' he explained in a hushed voice, speaking thoughts he had kept to himself before. 'I counted close to two dozen and all of them on horseback.'  
  
'Too valuable are horses for a group of bushrangers to possess so many.' Elladan agreed with his brother's unvoiced conclusion.  
  
'Aye. That leaves not many other possibilities.'  
  
'My guess would be a group of Rohirrim, searching for what we have already found. If the dwarves have been informed by Aragorn of what befell Gimli, then he will have sent a messenger to Eomer as well.'  
  
'I do not doubt it, for it would do no good to keep the King of the Mark uninformed of the tidings in his own land. But we know not for sure if these riders are Rohirrim.'  
  
'Nay, we do not. This is why we creep through this wood like two thieves,' Elladan smiled. 'Is this the right direction or have you lost your way?'  
  
Elrohir shook his head in something very close to exasperation. 'I never lose my way, brother mine. That is your speciality, if I remember correctly. But I wish to make sure Legolas is still well. To have left him like this fills me with unease.'  
  
A short nod was all that was needed to signal his twin's agreement, and only a few moments later they reached the place where they had left Legolas. Kneeling down Elrohir quickly checked his condition, finding him still unconscious but stable. A quick smile told Elladan that all was well and they moved on again, sparing no glance at the bound man who had watched them with a mixture of fear and hate.  
  
'What do you think our proud Mirkwood elf will say if he finds out he has been bought by Gimli?' It was Elladan who asked, his voice low enough to only be heard by the sharp ears of another elf.  
  
A look of surprise crossed Elrohir's face at that.  
  
'I did not think of this before,' he confessed as a grin slowly formed on his face. 'But it is true--he belongs to Gimli now.'  
  
'Aye, it will be interesting to hear what he has to say about it. I doubt not that the dwarf will take great pleasure in telling him this.'  
  
'But did Gimli not take back the piece of jewellery he traded for Legolas?' Elrohir could see the sly grin on his brother's face. 'What did you do?'  
  
'Nothing.' A most innocent expression passed over Elladan's face. For a moment he held up a small thing, glittering silver and red. A soft chuckle escaped Elrohir.  
  
'You took it?'  
  
'Aye. I wished for Legolas to see what his worth is in mithril and gems.'  
  
They shared a grin, mischief sparkling in two identical sets of grey eyes. But as quickly as it had come the moment of bantering had passed  
  
'We need to go west.'  
  
More years of experience in travelling and hunting together than a mortal could imagine made words unnecessary, as they quickly made their way in the direction of the riders. At one point they separated without sharing much more than a short glance, each of them disappearing into their surroundings without a sound.  
  
After only a few steps Elrohir chose to leave the ground, leaping up into a tree as effortlessly as he had been walking on the ground. A few quick movements and he was up high, allowing him to overlook his surroundings. Keen eyes searched for any movement that would tell him the position of the riders, but he could not make out anything. So he went lower again, moving forward through the trees until he could feel the tension in the air that told of strangers in this forest-- intruders of which these woods were wary.  
  
Once more he climbed higher and this time he could see movement some distance away. Only a few heartbeats later he could hear the sound of horses moving. The elf leaned forward a bit, concentrating as he made out the sound of voices. Keen ears tried to catch the words, to learn more of those strangers. He closed his eyes as he strained his sense of hearing, solely focusing on the voice he could hear speaking.  
  
So it came that the soft sound of rustling close to him took a few moments to register, then his eyes snapped open and his hand darted towards his long knife. But he froze in mid movement, the sight of an arrowhead aiming at his left eye enough to immobilize him.  
  
@@@  
  
'Use rope, their belts and everything you can find to bind them.'  
  
Gimli's voice was calm as he spoke, not betraying the feeling of unease that had settled over him. He knew not who it was that Elrohir had made out approaching them, but there was a high possibility of them not being friends. And that would mean a lot of trouble for them. On foot there was no way to outrun horses, and while the elves were able to disappear into the forest without leaving a trace, dwarves surely could not.  
  
And then there was Legolas. Elrohir had calmed Gimli's worry when he had assured him he would recover quickly but right now the dwarf knew his friend to be unconscious, which meant that in the case of a fight he would be unable to defend himself. Carrying him would mean another hindrance for a quick escape. The odds were not with them, the dwarf concluded grimly.  
  
His dark mood was reinforced when he searched Karim's pockets without finding what he was looking for. The man was half-mad with pain, the agony his broken shoulder caused him clouding his mind. He only whimpered, staring at Gimli with unseeing eyes as the dwarf asked him for the piece of jewellery that had been the price for Legolas.  
  
But even the dark anger in the dwarf's eyes had not penetrated through the haze Karim was lost in, and finally Gimli had to admit defeat. A feeling of deep loss overwhelmed him for a moment as he turned from the man. It had been the only thing to remind him of Nirith.  
  
But then he remembered an elf's laughter and his heart lifted. If this had been the price to pay for Legolas's life and freedom then it had been worth it. For a moment he imagined the feeling of loss had he not found the elf alive and his heart clenched painfully in his chest. No, he would rather give away the Glittering Caves themselves ere he faced this.  
  
The task of immobilizing their captives finished, the dwarves collected their weapons and prepared to leave. The unease Gimli had felt for leaving Legolas behind had returned and he chose to throw caution to the wind, not caring for silence as they made their way back in haste.  
  
With great relief Gimli found his friend in the same position as he had left him, still covered and protected by the Lorien cloak. Kneeling down he studied the elf carefully, taking in the pale face as well as the even breathing. There was no sign of the elf waking up but still he tried, calling his name and shaking him, careful not to jostle the wounded arm. No response came and the small hope Gimli had harboured fled, leaving a feeling of dread in its wake.  
  
A sudden sound, loud in his ears, made him jump to his feet, fingers curling around the haft of his axe. Around him his companions took a battle- ready stance as well. But he recovered instantly, tension leaving him with a relieved sigh as he took in the cause of the noise.  
  
A big horse slowly trotted towards him, as if it was the most natural thing that it would be here.  
  
'Arod,' Gimli hissed in surprise. They had left the horses behind, which meant in the way of the elves that they had unburdened them and let them go free, to call for them when needed. It was a method Gimli had never learned to trust completely, not fully understanding how the horses would know when they were needed again.  
  
'Worry not, my friend,' Legolas had once explained to him. 'The wind and the trees carry the call of their owners towards them, so it will reach them wherever they are.'  
  
He had not called for Arod now, and neither had Legolas, of that he was quite sure. Still the horse was here and looking at him with large, dark eyes.  
  
Staring back, it slowly dawned on Gimli that he might be just the solution to their problem. On foot, the dwarves would not have been able to escape the riders. But on horse the odds were completely different. If Arod was here, Gimli was sure Selena was not far away and the twins would know how to summon their horses.  
  
This seemed to be just another of those elven ways he did not understand. Legolas would probably tell him that the trees had spoken to Arod, telling him he was needed. Whatever the reason might be, Gimli would not question it but simply be glad the horse was here.  
  
His heart lighter than before, Gimli watched as Arod stopped next to Legolas, his head bowing down to prod the silent form.  
  
'No, Arod,' Gimli spoke in a soft voice, causing the horse to look at him once more. 'Leave him be.'  
  
Letting out something that sounded like a snort the horse obeyed, stepping back. With a smile Gimli reached out to pat him.  
  
Using the moment to quickly have a few bites of food and drink some water, the dwarves settled down, each of them ready to leave at a moment's notice. Tension was visible on their faces and hardly a word was spoken as they sat and waited for the twins to return. 


	23. Meeting Again

For once a quick update… although I should be working *sigh*. But I could not ignore   
so many requests :-)  
  
Thanks to all of you for reviewing not only the last chapter but all my stories! Some of   
you asked if there will be another chapter to 'Breaking and Mending'… and I fear   
there will be none…  
But I will continue writing this story and maybe one or two new ones as well… :-)  
  
So, thank you to all of you who keep reading and for the many nice & encouraging   
reviews I have received so far.  
  
A special thank you as always to Little My for beta reading.  
  
So, on with the story… and let me know if you like it!!!  
  
___  
  
  
Surprise widened Elrohir's eyes as he stared at the one who had managed to sneak   
up on him.   
  
'You are careless, son of Elrond,' a soft voice spoke. Blue eyes sparkled at Elrohir for   
a moment only to darken in sudden shock as a blade was pressed against his throat.  
  
'Not as much as you, Calenuial,' Elladan hissed in his ear.   
  
For a moment they stood frozen, then a small chuckle escaped the golden-haired elf   
and he lowered his bow.  
  
'True, I should have known the both of you would not be far apart,' he answered. 'But   
catching one of you unawares was too good to miss.'  
  
Elladan's knife disappeared.  
  
'What brings you from Ithilien to this place?' Elrohir asked. 'And in whose company   
do you travel?'  
  
'Let me guess,' Elladan quickly added. 'The elves of Northern Ithilien sent you to look   
for their lost lord.'  
  
Another chuckle escaped Calenuial.  
  
'Aye, this is quite close to the truth. Legolas left our realm in a sudden hurry and only   
a short message was sent to inform us that he was well.' The elf grinned at his next   
words. 'When I heard he had set out with Gimli the dwarf and the sons of Elrond I   
chose to follow you, for your penchant for trouble is well know.'  
  
The twins exchanged a quick glance, having heard what had not been spoken aloud.   
They knew this elf to be a close friend of Legolas's. The last adventure Gimli and   
Legolas had faced had almost cost the elf's life and this had shaken Calenuial   
deeply, enough to cause him great unease at the knowledge that his friend and lord   
once more was out there, facing unknown dangers.  
  
'A message had to be delivered to Eomer, King of the Mark, and I offered to do this.'   
With a vague wave towards the direction where voices and the sound of hooves were   
getting louder, he now added: 'These bushrangers have been a great trouble lately to   
these lands, so it was decided to find and destroy their hiding place once and for all.'  
  
He did not mention his feeling of foreboding at receiving the message from Legolas a   
few days after his hurried departure from Ithilien, saying that he would stay away for   
some time longer. There had been no doubt for him that Legolas would once more   
travel with the dwarf. He had ridden to Minas Tirith only to find them already gone.   
His pride would not allow him to follow them, but as Aragorn spoke of a message to   
be delivered to Eomer he had offered without a second thought.  
  
'So these are the king's men?' Elladan asked.  
  
'Aye.' Calenuial's eyes sparkled. 'But not only. It seems the King of the Mark does not   
have much opportunity to go on the hunt these days.'  
  
'King Eomer is with them?' Elrohir's question was answered with a grin.   
  
'Where are your companions?' Calenuial finally asked. He expected for Legolas to   
have joined them by now.  
  
The twins exchanged a quick glance before Elladan spoke. 'They are a bit behind us.   
Some of Gimli's kin joined us. We had a kind of…'   
  
'…confrontation,' Elrohir supplemented, 'with these bushrangers. A sad sight, if I   
have ever seen one.'  
  
'So the dwarves stayed behind to watch the captives we have taken.' Elladan chose   
not to mention the fact that one certain elf was unconscious. He would leave   
explaining that part of their story to Gimli. An angry Mirkwood elf was more than he   
wished to handle.  
  
'The bushrangers? So you have found them already?'  
  
'Aye.' There was a smirk in Elladan's voice. 'But we left some for you. Their camp is   
hidden in the forest and a few of them are still there.'  
  
'Then let us bring this news to the Rohirrim,' Calenuial spoke, and with a short nod of   
consent the twins followed him. The riders were close now and it took only a few   
moments to reach them.   
  
Surprised shock registered on their faces as three elves stepped silently from the   
woods surrounding them.   
  
'Hail, Eomer, King of the Mark,' Elladan spoke and the twins bowed in greeting,   
hiding their smirks. It was always fun to see how easily men were taken unawares.  
  
'Hail, Elladan, Elrohir.' Eomer recovered quickly, his eyes darting between the   
identical faces. He could not tell them apart and chose to look at them both.  
  
Necessary information was quickly shared and soon the Rohirrim followed the sons   
of Elrond into the forest.  
  
@@@  
  
The dwarves sat quietly, their silence getting more and more tense, the more time   
passed.   
  
The sound of hooves getting closer brought them to their feet, axes ready. Without   
conscious thought they stood in front of the silent elf, their bodies building a   
protective wall between him and whoever approached.  
Only when Elrohir stepped out of the shadows did they relax.  
  
'Friends they are,' he spoke. 'The Rohirrim led by their king himself.'  
  
Axes were lowered as they waited until the men, leading their horses now, came into   
sight.  
  
Gimli stepped forward to greet Eomer, and this movement revealed the unmoving   
form behind him. An expression of surprise flitted across the man's face but his   
glance was not directed at the elf but at the dwarf.   
  
'Gimli?' he asked, uncertainty in his voice.   
  
But ere he had the chance to speak further someone else recognized Legolas.   
Without a word and quick as an arrow Calenuial passed them by, sinking to his knees   
next to the still form. His hands touched Legolas's brow, relief washing over him to   
feel him warm and alive. Then fear turned to anger and he moved his head to glare   
at Gimli.  
  
'Why is it that each time I meet you, Legolas has taken hurt?' he hissed.  
  
The dwarf found himself speechless for once, as he had neither expected to see this   
elf here nor to be accused like this.  
  
'Is he badly injured?' Eomer asked, concern evident in his voice.   
  
'Nay,' Elrohir quickly answered. 'He has been given some draught that renders him   
unconscious.'  
  
'Not to mention that broken arm and the blow to his head,' Elladan added helpfully,   
his voice losing some of its glee at the dark look he received from Calenuial. 'But he   
should be well quickly,' he added lamely, glancing towards his brother for   
confirmation.  
  
The golden-haired elf stood, his eyes dark. 'Some draught?' he asked. 'What kind?'  
  
'We know not,' Elrohir answered. 'It was given to him by one of the bushrangers while   
he was held captive…'  
  
'Captive?' The voice was quiet but dangerous. 'It seems you left out part of your   
story, son of Elrond.'  
  
Had Gimli not been seething with anger at being accused in this manner, he would   
have found great amusement in seeing Elrohir squirm under the dark glare. So he   
spoke up, turning attention on himself.  
  
'It is a long story to tell and we lack time for this. Those we have taken captive are   
excepted to return to their camp soon. If we take out the guards, our approach will be   
no cause for alarm for they will think us to be their own group, returning from   
waylaying us.'  
  
'Wise words,' Eomer agreed, relieved that Calenuial refrained from further argument.   
His still seemed angry, and he shot the dwarf another dark look but held his tongue.   
  
At least now Eomer was sure that it was indeed Gimli, for the last time he had seen   
him the dwarf's hair had been a dark red where now it was a dark brown.   
  
'We will follow your lead as you know the way.'  
  
'One should stay behind to guard Legolas,' Gimli suggested, already half-expecting   
the reaction to his words.   
  
'I will stay with him.' With that Calenuial settled down, keeping his bow in readiness   
next to him.   
  
Satisfied in knowing his friend was safe, Gimli took one last look around, seeing the   
horses secured and all ready to go. A short nod towards Elladan and they were on   
their way.  
  
@@@  
  
Calenuial did not move until the last of the men had disappeared from sight,   
marveling at how much noise men and dwarves were able to make. Then his   
attention turned to his friend, keen eyes studying the pale face. He remembered well   
the last time he had found Legolas like this and it still filled him with dread. How close   
they had come to losing him then.  
  
He removed the cloak covering his friend, checking him over carefully. He did trust   
Elrohir, knowing his gift of healing, but wished to see with his own eyes that this time   
the injuries were minor. The broken arm was well tended and he could find nothing   
else to worry over. There was a wound at Legolas's temple and blood matted his   
hair, no doubt from the blow he had received. But he could feel the strong and even   
heartbeat and his fears abated. Legolas seemed only deeply asleep, fighting off the   
effect of the draught he had been given.  
  
He sat back on his haunches, his eyes coming to rest on the bound man. He had   
noticed the captive before but only now did he see the hate burning in the eyes that   
were fixed on him. He rose to step closer and the hate turned to fear.  
  
For a moment he pondered removing the gag and questioning the man to learn the   
whole story of what had transpired here. But disgust won over curiosity. Legolas   
would tell him, or he would force the truth from one of the twins.  
  
His body relaxed as he settled down, his keen senses turning to their surroundings. A   
sudden smile played around his lips as his anger cooled with his fears. And he would   
have to find out how the dwarf came to have dark brown hair all of a sudden.  
  
@@@  
  
The sound of horses made Clardyn's heart clench. She had been awaiting Surdim's   
return with growing dread, anticipating his ire when he found the elf gone.   
  
She had prayed that he would not return alone, that he would bring Lian with him.   
Her husband would offer a source of protection she would dearly need in facing   
Surdim.  
So it brought her great relief to see two riders emerging from the woods, one of them   
her husband.   
  
Her heart was beating wildly in her breast as she watched them dismount. She could   
see Lian's expression, see the reluctance in his movements. It seemed he was not   
too eager to face whatever Surdim had planned for the elf.  
  
Surdim walked over to her with Lian following in his wake. She could see his gaze   
wander over to the tree where he had left the elf and his eyes widened in shock to   
find him gone. With quick strides he was in front of her, his fingers digging painfully   
into her shoulders.  
  
'Where is he, woman? What have you done?'  
  
'Let her go!' Dian had seen him arrive, and sensing his mother's apprehension had   
quietly stepped next to her. With his father close, he dared to contradict the man he   
was normally afraid of. His childish voice rang loudly in his own ears.  
  
'Stay out of this, brat,' the man hissed, his eyes boring into Clardyn's. 'Where is the   
elf?'  
  
'Karim took him,' she answered, hoping his anger would redirect itself towards the   
other man.   
  
Then Lian was there, his hands calmly removing Surdim's from her shoulders. But his   
eyes burned with anger at seeing his wife treated in this manner.   
  
'Karim?' Surdim turned to face the camp, noticing most of the men were gone.   
'Where is he?'  
  
'He used the elf as bait,' Clardyn answered. She had had time enough to think of   
what to tell him. 'They are out to waylay some dwarves--they should return soon.'  
  
'Dwarves?' He turned to her again. 'Dwarves have been here?'  
  
'Yes,' she answered him, fear coiling in her insides at the deep rage she could see   
building in him.   
  
He closed his eyes for a moment as if to think, and it was then that they heard the   
sound of footsteps approaching.  
  
'They are returning,' Clardyn exclaimed, hoping his ire would now turn towards   
Karim. 


	24. Moving Out

Once more I have to thank you all not only for the many reviews but also for the email   
I received. I can not find the words to tell you how much your encouragement means   
to me.  
So – in lack of better words: THANK YOU!!!  
  
Special thanks go to Little My for beta reading.  
  
So, on with the story… and keep telling me if you like it!!! Please :-)))))  
  
___  
  
As soon as they were out of the hearing range of even an elf, Gimli felt a hand touch   
his shoulder. Looking up he found Elladan walking next to him, his silver eyes gazing   
at the dwarf with intensity.  
  
'There is a question I would like to ask you, friend Gimli.' the elf spoke. He paused   
until a short nod from Gimli urged him to speak further. 'I have heard the name   
Surdim mentioned several times now. Would this be the same Surdim we   
encountered before?'  
  
The dwarf's face was grim as he answered. 'I think so. It would explain why Legolas   
was taken.'  
  
'Aye,' Elladan nodded. 'With the twisted way the minds of men sometimes work, I   
doubt not that he thinks he has reason to hate him. Although it was Legolas who was   
wronged then.'  
  
The anger in his voice was reflected in Gimli's eyes as they remembered what had   
been done to their friend so many nights ago.   
  
'Whatever he has planned to do,' the dwarf vowed, 'it will not come to pass. And this   
time I will make sure that he will never get the chance to hurt anyone again.'  
  
The short tightening of the elf's hand on his shoulder told Gimli without words that he   
had his full support.   
  
'Elrohir and I will move ahead and take care of the guards,' Elladan said, and then he   
was gone from the dwarf's side.   
  
@@@  
  
Only several minutes had passed and Calenuial found himself checking on Legolas   
again. Long fingers touched his brow as he called his friend's name in a low voice.   
For a moment he thought he could see some kind of reaction, and his heart beat   
faster as hope filled him. Even if his wounds were minor, it was unnerving to see   
Legolas so still.   
  
But nothing happened, no further sign of awareness came, and once more Calenuial   
settled down. Their surroundings were peaceful. The trees still whispered of violence   
and bloodshed in their midst, but were calmed by the presence of elves.   
  
The smallest sound, no more than a soft rustling of grass, brought Calenuial's   
attention back to Legolas. He stared hard at his friend, trying to find what had made   
the small noise. The slightest movement caught his eye and a smile broke out on his   
face as he saw Legolas's fingers move again.  
  
His own hand captured the cold one of his friend as he whispered fiercely, 'Legolas?   
Wake up, my friend, you have rested long enough.'  
  
Eyes blinked open, fighting against heavy eyelids, and it took some heartbeats until   
Legolas's gaze focused as his vision slowly cleared.   
  
When the dark eyes turned to look at him, Calenuial could not hold in the laughter at   
seeing the completely confused look in them.   
  
Indignation replaced confusion and Legolas's eyes narrowed. He did not like to be   
laughed at, especially when he had no idea where he was and why.   
  
Laughter faded to a broad grin and Calenuial offered a hand to help Legolas into a   
sitting position. It was pointedly ignored, but the sudden movement of sitting up   
caused a wave of dizziness to wash over the wounded elf. He blinked again to   
remove the black spots from his vision, while he noted that his back and arm hurt.   
  
For long moments he sat unmoving and Calenuial could feel worry starting to stir in   
his insides.   
  
'Legolas?' he asked, not sure what was the cause of his stillness.  
  
Legolas looked once more at his friend, taking in that the laughter had faded from his   
eyes and had been replaced by worry.   
  
'I am well,' he mumbled, his gaze wandering over his surroundings to come to rest on   
the bound man. For a moment his eyes widened in surprise, then his memory   
rushed back.   
  
His capture. Surdim. Clardyn and Dian. The draught that had been given to him. But   
then… his brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the pieces of memories of   
what had happened then. He could remember trying to flee and being caught again,   
but when and where he could not recall. It was no more than a tumble of pictures,   
unclear and fogged. It was unnerving for an elf, who was used to his perfect memory,   
to be unable to recall what had happened to him.   
  
His wide eyes searched for Calenuial, and even as he did so he realized he had no   
idea how his friend came to be here, but he hoped the elf would be able to tell him   
more.  
  
'What are you doing here?' he asked finally.  
  
Once more an amused grin appeared on his friend's face. 'Doing what I always seem   
to do--getting you out of trouble,' he answered with a trace of laughter in his voice. 'It   
seems that every time I find you, you are deeply asleep.'  
  
Legolas grimaced at that for there was hardly anything he could say to counter this.   
  
'I came here with Eomer and the riders of the Mark,' Calenuial added.  
  
A quick glance around confirmed what Legolas had seen before--apart from the   
bound man and some horses, they were alone.  
  
'And where would everyone else be?' he asked.  
  
'What happened to you?' The other elf countered his question with one of his own.   
  
'That is of no matter. Where is everybody?'   
  
'It is of matter if I find you wounded and unconscious once again,' Calenuial's voice   
held some anger now.   
  
'It is a long story,' Legolas sighed. He did not wish to tell it for he knew it would only   
cause more questions. Questions that would touch on a matter he had never spoken   
of with any of his own people. Not even Calenuial.  
  
'That I have heard before, for this was what your friends told me when I asked them.'  
  
'I was captured,' Legolas answered in a tight voice. 'I was held captive. That is all I   
remember.'  
  
For a moment his friend stared at him, as if trying to read his mind.  
  
'By whom?' he asked finally. 'And why?'  
  
'By a man. And explaining why would take more time than I wish to waste on this.   
Now tell me where everyone has gone, although I can imagine the answer.' Legolas's   
voice had changed now, taking on an edge of command that Calenuial knew well.   
There was no further use in asking and probing; he would receive no more answers   
to the questions plaguing his mind.   
  
'They went to the bushranger's camp.'   
  
A frown appeared on Legolas's face.  
  
'This is where I was held captive,' he spoke. He remembered well the tree he had   
been bound to and could not help but wonder how he had been freed. A hand   
reached out to stop him as he moved to rise, but one hard look and Calenuial   
withdrew.   
  
In silence he watched as Legolas got to his feet with less than his usual grace.  
  
'You do not wish to go after them?' His voice held some trepidation for he knew his   
friend fairly well.  
  
'I will not stay behind,' Legolas answered, 'while others fight my battles.'  
  
'But our aid will not be needed,' Calenuial tried to persuade him. 'Eomer's men count   
almost twenty, and the dwarves…'  
  
'Dwarves?' Legolas interrupted him, confused once more.  
  
'Aye, Legolas, four of them.' He suddenly remembered something. 'And I would really   
like to know why Gimli changed the color of his hair.'   
  
'Gimli did what?' The look with which he regarded Calenuial spoke of doubt over his   
state of mind.  
  
'He has dark brown hair--I hardly recognized him until I heard his voice.'  
  
Legolas only shook his head. 'I know not of what you speak. The last time I saw him,   
he was the only dwarf in my company and his hair was red. Do you wish to tell me   
Elladan and Elrohir have blonde hair now?'  
  
Picturing this Calenuial could not help but snigger. 'Nay, they are as dark as ever.'   
He met Legolas's amused glance. 'Your arm will hinder you in a fight,' he said softly.  
  
'I know,' Legolas answered. 'It is not a fight I seek.' But he explained himself no   
further, turning away before Calenuial could ask what he meant.   
  
His eyes searched the ground for tracks and he started to follow them, feeling his   
friend following close behind. Whatever objections Calenuial might have, he would   
not leave his side. After a few steps Legolas could feel the lightheadedness recede   
and his steps became surer.   
  
Silently they walked, leaving the bound man and the horses behind without a second   
glance.  
  
@@@  
  
The group had halted, waiting for the elves to return. When they did they wore   
matching grins of satisfaction on their faces, leaving no doubt that their task had   
been fulfilled successfully.  
  
'You know the camp best of us all,' Eomer spoke. 'How shall we attack it?'  
  
'We observed it once more,' Elladan answered. 'Only a few men are there, and most   
of them are sitting at the fire in the middle of the clearing. I would think it best if we   
move in from several sides at once.'  
  
Eomer nodded his consent. He might be King and the leader of his men but he knew   
when to listen. The sons of Elrond had been warriors for longer than he could even   
imagine, and it would be folly not to heed their counsel.   
  
'One group should use the path leading to the camp. They will think them to be their   
own people and it will cause a distraction for the others,' Elrohir added.  
  
'It should be you, Gimli, and your companions for you have gone there before and   
you know the way.' Elladan did not comment on his doubt of the dwarves' ability of   
moving with the stealth needed to approach the camp without being noticed too   
soon.   
  
'We will lead two groups to locations on the other side of the camp,' he continued.   
'From there we will enter as soon as the attention has turned to the dwarves. It will   
give us the advantage of surprise, and we might be able to win this fight without   
much bloodshed.'  
  
He turned his gaze on Gimli. 'The cry of a screech owl three times repeated will tell   
you when my group has reached its location.'  
  
'Three times the cry of a hawk will be our signal,' Elrohir spoke. 'Then it is up to you.'  
  
No protest arose and the men were quickly divided in two groups. One set out with   
Elrohir leading them, the other moved after Elladan in the opposite direction. Eomer   
chose to go with the elder twin, his men moving silently through the woods, louder   
than the elves but still hard to hear. 


	25. Silence

A big apology to all of you - I did not mean to make you wait for so long.  
  
But some of you still seem to read this story - thanks to you for reviewing   
and thanks for cookies and nudges - they did help to keep/get me writing   
despite a painful lack of time...   
  
And I like the emails some of you sent me very much - I am glad to know you   
enjoy my stories :-))))))  
  
So for all of you who still stayed with me the next chapter: a big thank   
you goes to Little My, my most patient beta reader!!!  
  
So, on with the story ... and let me know if you like it!!!  
___  
  
With anger in his heart Surdim glared at the woman, fighting down the desire to wrap   
his hands around her neck and shake her. The fear in her eyes would have given him   
some satisfaction had he lost anything but this elf. For so long had he planned what   
he would do should he ever get the chance to lay hands on him again.   
  
But her words had the desired effect as his anger turned towards Karim. How dare   
he touch something that belonged to him, Surdim? And how foolish could one man   
be not to see that he had been tricked, and by dwarves, no less. Surdim knew well of   
the friendship between this particular elf and a certain dwarf, and there was no doubt   
in his mind as to who it had been that had freed the elf.   
  
His only hope now was that Karim and his men had succeeded in waylaying them   
and would bring the elf back. Some doubt lingered at the back of his mind, reminding   
him of the fact that Gimli the dwarf was a seasoned warrior.  
  
The footsteps came closer and he turned now to face those who would step into the   
clearing any moment. His face was dark, the look in his eyes cold as he prepared   
himself for the confrontation with the man who thought he was leading this group of   
bushrangers. Maybe the day had come to prove who really was in charge here.   
  
He was so focused on what was about to happen across the clearing that he missed   
the small sounds an attentive ear could have caught coming from the woods   
surrounding them. For Eomer's men did not possess the ability of elves to move   
completely without being heard. But Surdim was not the only one whose attention   
was focused on the return of Karim so the quiet approach stayed unnoticed, just as   
planned.  
  
And then as some rose in greeting and Surdim took his first step towards the   
approaching men, four figures stepped into the clearing.  
  
Stunned silence fell. All eyes stared at the four dwarves who had stopped as soon as   
they were in plain sight, their sharp eyes taking in the situation quickly, noticing the   
positions of men with weapons.   
  
A growl escaped Gimli the moment his eyes fell on the man standing right across the   
clearing, staring at him with a comical expression of disbelief upon his face. It quickly   
turned to one of realization as his hand flew to his sword.  
  
'Surdim,' Gimli hissed, a wave of utter satisfaction washing through him at finding the   
one he had wished to meet.   
  
In this moment as all attention was focused on the dwarves, Eomer's men silently   
slipped from between the trees, invading the camp from two sides at once. Without a   
word spoken they moved, their steps as quiet as possible, like shadows appearing in   
the midst of the surprised bushrangers. Many found themselves at sword's point ere   
they had even begun to understand what was happening.  
  
Only Surdim reacted in time, his sword in hand as he saw one of the dwarves walking   
towards him with a dark expression on his face, axe ready for battle. The color of   
Gimli's hair fooled him for long heartbeats, until his gaze met the dark eyes flashing   
at him.   
  
The memory of their encounter, many nights ago in the House of Healing at Minas   
Tirith, was still fresh in his mind-- it had been a humiliation he had not forgotten. He   
had fought with Elladan then, but Gimli's laugh still echoed in his mind.  
  
So he stood his ground, eager for this fight as the desire for revenge washed through   
him once more. If he could not have the elf, the dwarf would do.   
  
Then Gimli was in front of him and his axe moved with surprising speed. Blocking it   
with his sword, the force of the impact shook Surdim, alerting him to the fact that this   
was an opponent he must not underestimate. But he was still confident as he moved   
out of the way of Gimli's next blow.  
  
@@@  
  
Elladan's eyes wandered over the clearing, taking in the scene, a relived smile   
appearing on his face. It had gone just as planned, the moment of surprise all they   
had needed to invade the camp and overwhelm its occupants. Hardly a scuffle had   
taken place and little blood had been shed.  
  
His eyes met the silver ones of his twin, standing a few feet away, reading emotions   
in them that mirrored his own. Then the sound of metal clashing drew the attention of   
them both. Quick steps brought Elrohir to his brother's side.  
  
'It seems Gimli has found the one he has been looking for,' he spoke.  
  
'Aye,' Elladan answered. 'This is Surdim.' Contempt laced his voice.   
  
They stood in silence, watching as once more the dwarf dealt out devastating blows.   
The man was a better fighter than Karim had been, but he was losing ground   
already.   
  
@@@  
  
He had been a warrior of Gondor once, a proud man.   
  
He knew he was losing this fight, his left arm already weakening and his right one no   
use to him. Another blow sent him stumbling backwards. He regained his balance as   
the dwarf moved to follow him, and for a heartbeat he hesitated. At the sight of   
Gimli's face and the fierce anger in the dwarf's eyes, the last of his pride left him and,   
his sword slipping from his fingers, he turned and fled.  
  
He never saw the dumbfounded look on Gimli's face that caused Elrohir to laugh   
aloud as he ran. An arrow whistled by his shoulder--a warning a sane man would not   
have dismissed. But his mind was clouded by fear as much as the searing knowledge   
of this humiliation he once more had to endure.  
  
His eyes were wide as he looked around, seeing his horse but too far away to reach   
it. The smallest movement to his left gained his attention and his gaze flickered to the   
source, eyes that held more than a little madness coming to rest on the boy standing   
there.   
  
Dian.  
  
@@@  
  
The moment he had seen the men bearing the colors of Rohan invading their camp,   
Lian had known there was no way out anymore. He had seen too many fights not to   
know when one was lost. So the only movement he made was the two steps that   
took him to his wife's side, wrapping his arms protectively around her. Their eyes met   
and he could see the deep pain in hers.  
  
'I am sorry,' he whispered, knowing his words were not adequate to atone for what   
she would have to face. Once more he had brought shame on himself, once more his   
actions would cause her to lose everything.   
  
He was oblivious to the warrior stepping up to him until he felt hands removing his   
sword, but made no movement to stop him.   
  
He gazed around, taking in the little resistance within the camp. He caught sight of   
the tall figures of the elves, his heart beating faster as he recognized them for the   
sons of Elrond. If any ill had befallen Legolas the elf, there would be a dire price to   
pay. Then his attention, like everybody else's, was drawn to the fight.  
  
Seeing Surdim turn to flee caused a stab of pain, for it told him only too well how far   
they had fallen. Surdim had been his closest friend once, had stood by his side in   
many battles. Running from a fight like a hunted animal spoke volumes of the   
changes they had both undergone.  
  
But this pain was soon to be replaced by another. Clardyn's cry of denial echoed in   
his ears and pierced his heart as he stood frozen, disbelieving what his eyes told him.  
  
Ere Dian could react Surdim's hands had seized him and lifted him in a tight grip, not   
caring for the pain he caused the boy. Turning around he faced the camp, his right   
arm around the boy's waist, holding him in front of himself as a living shield. His left   
hand held the dagger he usually carried on his belt, the blade pressed against the   
boy's neck.   
  
Elladan froze, the arrow nocked and ready to fly never leaving his bow. His brother's   
laughter died in his throat. A tense silence fell as the sound of a woman's cry faded.   
Even the woods seemed to be holding its breath.  
  
@@@  
  
It had been easy to follow the tracks of the dwarves and humans. When they reached   
the place where the group had parted, it took Legolas not long to decide to follow the   
dwarves.   
  
Calenuial watched him closely for any signs that he still suffered from his injuries.   
Legolas's eyes were slightly dull, but if this was caused from pain or was a still   
lingering effect of the blow he had suffered, Calenuial could not tell.  
Knowing there was no use in trying to stop his friend, he stayed at his side, following   
him without protest.  
  
A woman's cry echoed through the wood only moments before they caught the first   
glimpse of the camp.   
  
The frozen tableau in front of them warned both elves to stop and look more closely   
before stepping out of the trees. A sharp intake of breath from Legolas caused   
Calenuial to follow his gaze. Disbelief shone on his face as he saw what had caused   
his friend's reaction.  
  
'Tell me my eyes are deceiving me,' the elf whispered, 'for it cannot be.'  
  
'I fear your eyes see the same as mine do,' Legolas answered darkly.   
  
'But it is a child he threatens! Are men truly so corrupt that they would use a weapon   
against a child?'  
  
'Some of them are.' For a moment their eyes met before Legolas's flickered away.   
There was something in his voice that alerted Calenuial. 'This man surely is.'  
  
'You know him?'  
  
'I have met him before.' He did not wish to speak of this, but Calenuial chose to   
ignore the warning in his voice.  
  
'So this is Surdim?' he inquired, hoping to learn more.  
  
'Aye,' was all he received for an answer.  
  
@@@  
  
Taken by surprise by Surdim's sudden flight, it had cost Gimli a few seconds until he   
had reacted to follow the man, not wishing to let him escape. But he had been too far   
away to stop the man and had been rendered helpless the moment the boy had   
become a living shield. Anger boiled in the dwarf at seeing a child being treated in   
this manner. For dwarves, children were rare and considered the most precious of   
gifts.   
His axe still in hand he stood frozen, just like everyone else. He could see the shock   
and fear on the boy's face as he hung limply in the man's grasp, looking small and   
fragile.  
  
Surdim's eyes flickered, the expression in them reminding Gimli of a hunted animal   
that had lost all sanity in its desperate attempt to escape.   
  
Something like glee shone on the man's face as he took in the situation. The dwarf   
was the closest to him but he could see the defeat on his face.   
  
'Drop your weapon, master dwarf,' Surdim called out. 'And take a few steps back.'  
  
Grinding his teeth Gimli obeyed, his axe falling to the ground. He moved away, his   
eyes darting around to find anything that might aid them. He could see the woman   
standing only a few feet away from Surdim, her face a mask of anguish.   
  
'Lian? Get the horses.'  
  
The man moved as if caught in a bad dream, the shock of seeing his son in such   
danger weighing him down. But he knew better than to disobey. Carefully he   
removed his arms from Clardyn, who did not seem to notice as her gaze was frozen   
on Surdim's back.   
  
Once more Surdim's eyes wandered over the camp, as if searching for something.   
He caught sight of the twins and his eyes narrowed. For a moment his gaze flickered   
between them as he tried to identify the one that had fought him that night but he   
could not tell them apart.  
  
'If you would drop your bow, master elf?' he asked in a mockingly polite voice.   
  
For a long moment Elladan did not move, holding Surdim's gaze with an unblinking   
glare that unnerved the man. He moved his left arm the tiniest bit, reinforcing the   
pressure against the boy's neck only slightly but enough to cause a gasp of fear. The   
bow fell from Elladan's fingers.  
  
A satisfied grin shone on the man's face.   
  
'You cannot truly believe you will escape,' Gimli spoke up. 'This is folly. Let the boy   
go and you will live through this day.'  
  
Laughter answered him as Surdim's attention returned to the dwarf.  
  
'Where is the elf?' he asked, ignoring Gimli's words, a dark threat in his voice. 


	26. Confrontations

Wow, the number of reviews for the last chapter tells me quite a lot of people are still   
reading this! *happy grin*  
416 reviews so far - you make me a very happy author !!!!!!  
  
thank you for all the nice threats, hugs, cookies, flowers ... and comments :-)  
I enjoyed each of them very much.  
And as I am one of those who can not get enough : please, keep them coming!!!  
  
A big thank you to Little My for beta reading!  
  
So, on with the story... I hope you enjoy it as much as I love reading your reviews.  
  
___   
  
Surdim's eyes were fixed on Gimli, waiting for the answer to his question, knowing   
the dwarf could provide it. He hardly took notice of Lian leading the horses close to   
him. Yet no answer came. The dwarf stood proud, holding Surdim's gaze with his   
own dark eyes, not even trying to hide the anger and disgust burning in them. For   
long moments the silence stretched.  
  
Elladan noticed his brother shifting ever so slightly. A quick glance sideways showed   
him his fingers had tightened around his bow, tension visible in his posture.  
  
'One quick shot,' Elrohir hissed, his voice so low that no mortal ear could catch its   
sound. 'I would not miss.'  
  
'It is too great a risk to take,' Elladan whispered back. 'If he would move at the wrong   
moment, you would risk hitting the child.'  
  
'Where is the elf?' Surdim once more demanded an answer, his voice louder than   
before, a shrill tone of something akin to hysteria in it.   
  
Gimli remained still, refusing to answer. The knife at the child's throat held him   
immobile, but he would not betray his friend.   
  
'Answer me, dwarf!' Surdim yelled, his grip on Dian tightening. The boy let out a small   
whimper, a mixture of fear and pain, as he was pressed even harder against the   
man's chest.  
  
@@@  
  
The two elves still hidden from sight shared a quick look. Calenuial's bow was ready   
in his hands, an arrow nocked, but he had hesitated to fire for the same reasons the   
sons of Elrond had.   
  
The small sound was more than Legolas could bear. He moved forward to step out of   
the concealing wood. A hand closing around his arm held him back.  
  
'Legolas.' Calenuial's eyes were wide with concern.   
  
'I cannot allow him to hurt the child.'   
  
'You will achieve naught if you show yourself. This man has lost all reason--he will   
not let the child go even if he has you.'   
  
But even as he spoke Calenuial could see the decision in Legolas's eyes. Maybe it   
was the fact that not only was the boy in danger but that Gimli also stood there,   
unprotected and defenseless against the building rage of the man, that hardened   
Legolas's resolve.   
  
Knowing his friend's noble action would only cause more harm, he let his bow slip   
from his fingers, moving swiftly. His arms slipped around Legolas, pinning his arms   
against his sides and holding him immobile. For a moment he could feel Legolas's   
surprise at this sudden action, then his struggles began.   
  
Under normal circumstances the elf knew he could not have maintained his grip on   
Legolas for more than a few moments. But his friend still suffered from the   
aftereffects of both the wounds he had received and the draught he had been given.   
It weakened him, not dangerously so but enough for Calenuial to keep the upper   
hand in this struggle.   
  
With a quick movement he overbalanced Legolas, bringing them both down to the   
ground. A grunt of pain escaped Legolas as Calenuial's weight pressed down on him,   
causing his broken arm to scream in protest. For a moment the pain took his breath   
away and his resistance broke. It was enough of an advantage for Calenuial to use   
as he shifted his own body on top of Legolas to effectively pin him down.  
  
'I am sorry,' he whispered.   
  
Angry eyes blazed at him.  
  
'I know what I do. Let me go.' It was an order now, given by the son of Thranduil, the   
Lord of Northern Ithilien.   
  
Closing his eyes in dismay Calenuial shook his head in denial. He would not allow his   
friend to endanger himself.   
  
'I cannot.'  
  
'You do not understand. It is I this man seeks and he will not hesitate to kill even a   
child.' A pleading note had entered Legolas's voice now.   
  
For a moment concern and guilt warred in Calenuial's eyes.  
  
'He has reason to hate Gimli as much as myself. He will take his revenge on him if he   
cannot get me,' Legolas added, desperately trying to get his friend to release him.   
  
For a moment Calenuial was tempted to let the dwarf face these dangers rather than   
his friend. But he knew his own warrior's pride would not allow him to let another take   
hurt in his place. He could not force Legolas to do what he himself would not. With a   
deep sigh he loosened his grip and stood.  
  
Legolas was on his feet at once, anger darkening his eyes as he stared hard at   
Calenuial.  
  
'Never try anything like that again,' he hissed before he turned to move towards the   
camp once more.  
  
@@@  
  
Gimli stood, his face calm, while thoughts raced through his mind. He could not tell   
the truth, could not betray Legolas, but the man demanded answers and in his state   
of mind Gimli feared what he would do.  
  
'He is dead,' he finally spoke.  
  
For a moment the man stared at him, surprise slowly turning to disbelief.  
  
'You lie,' he spat. 'Tell me where he hides or the child will suffer.'  
  
'He is dead,' Gimli repeated, his voice rising. 'One of your own men took his life, a   
coward like yourself as he used a weapon against a bound elf.'  
  
All the dwarf's rage was in these few words as well as showing on his face. He would   
have gladly strangled the life out of Surdim to avenge the hurt his friend had taken,   
as well as the blind terror and fear he could see on the boy's face. No child should   
ever know such fear.   
  
It was the emotion he could see on Gimli's face that made Surdim believe his words.   
Satisfaction from knowing the elf was dead mixed with disappointment that he had   
been robbed of his own revenge. Then a grim smile appeared on his face.  
  
'Then I will have to treat with you in his stead, master dwarf. I recall your mighty   
words and brave actions as you dealt with us when we were wounded and unarmed.   
We will see how you act if the tables are turned.'  
  
His eyes flickered to the man standing only a few feet away, the horses' reigns still in   
hand.  
  
'Tie his hands and feet, Lian, but do it well. And put him on a horse--I will take him   
with me.'  
  
@@@  
  
A small part of Clardyn's mind remained cool and untouched as she observed the   
dealings taking place in front of her, while another part of her raved in silent despair   
and fear. The deadly danger her son was in had frozen her, and she had not moved   
and hardly taken a breath since Surdim had taken him. Yet she knew the situation for   
what it was, even through the turmoil of emotions. She could see the way Surdim   
stood, her son in front of him so no arrow could reach him without endangering Dian.   
He could oversee the whole camp, as the only one still standing behind him was she.   
  
Lian obeyed his commands, moving towards the dwarf, and she knew without a   
doubt that he would do nothing that would risk Dian's life. Everyone else in the camp   
seemed to be frozen in place, and as much as she was grateful for them not   
endangering her son she still wished someone would do something. Anything to free   
her child.  
  
The announcement of the elf's death had shaken her.   
  
She watched her husband step next to the dwarf, a rope in his hands, and her eyes   
turned back to Surdim, boring into his back once more. She heard his laughter as   
Gimli did not resist Lian's touch and suddenly she knew he would not let her son go.   
Without a doubt, she knew that should Surdim be allowed to leave she would never   
see Dian again. There was no explanation, no reason, just this chilling knowledge   
that she would lose her son and it filled her heart with sudden agonizing pain.   
  
She moved without a clear thought, not hearing the voice calling out from the trees,   
only acting on a sudden impulse as if someone else was directing her. Without   
realizing that she had bent down her fingers found a stone, the size of a man's fist.   
She had not even noticed it was there before her fingers closed around it and she   
stood again, moving silently as never before. It was despair and fear, rage and   
desperation, and the fierce determination only a mother protecting her child would   
know that guided her hand.   
  
@@@  
  
Legolas had stepped forward, leaving the protection of the trees, his clear voice   
calling out.  
  
'I am here, man!'   
  
Calenuial stood behind him, still hidden in the shadows with his bow drawn, an arrow   
ready to be fired should the opportunity arise.   
  
Surdim's head whipped around, as he was taken by surprise as much as anyone else   
in the camp. His eyes focused on the slim figure standing tall and proud and a cruel   
smile started to form on his face. His lips moved, but the words were never spoken.  
  
The stone in Clardyn's hand found its target, not the back of Surdim's skull as the   
man had moved at the last moment but his temple, crashing down with a force that   
would have been expected from a warrior's hand and not a woman's.   
  
He crumbled without a sound, his muscles loosening in sudden unconsciousness   
and letting go of the knife and child at the same moment.  
  
Stunned silence followed, then Lian's hands fell away from Gimli and the man turned   
with a strangled cry that sounded like a sob to rush to the fallen man's side. Uncaring   
hands rolled the limp body away, searching for and finding the small body of the   
child. Another sob escaped the man's lips as he drew his son into his arms, shaking   
fingers pushing away strands of hair from the frightened face.  
  
'Dian.'   
  
The boy stared at his father with uncomprehending eyes before he was enveloped in   
a crushing embrace.   
  
The stone fell from Clardyn's fingers and she moved slowly, sinking to her knees next   
to her husband. Their eyes met and he reached out an arm, drawing her close. With   
a sob of relief she sank against him, her hands touching her son, stroking his hair.  
  
It was then that the boy's body started to shake as tears of relief and still lingering   
terror broke free and the sound of his sobs filled the silence. 


	27. Conversations

My dear readers and reviewers. this chapter is dedicated to all of you who patiently wait for my updates, no matter how long it takes for me to write the next chapter. It keeps me writing, especially now as real life takes most of my time.  
  
For those on my yahoo list who even sent a group of rangers and elves to take care of me: thank you - I will never return them to you :-). got addicted to them :-)  
  
Every single review I received for the last chapter brightened my life considerably. and I love you all for giving me so much positive feedback.  
  
What more can I say? I hope you forgive me for taking so long for writing this story, and I hope you are still reading it. And enjoying it??? If you do. tell me?!?!  
  
Special thanks as always to Little My for beta reading !!!  
  
Ok, on with the story. and do not hesitate to use the nice little review button. :-)  
  
____  
  
The silence that had hung over the clearing for long, tense minutes broke with the soft sounds of the child's cries, and with it the ability to move seemed to return to all at once.  
  
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged a quick glance, sharing all their relief with each other. Then Elladan pointed towards Legolas.  
  
'If we wish to speak to him ere Gimli is attached to his side once more, we should do it now.' Mischief sparkled in his eyes as he expectantly looked at his brother.  
  
Elrohir nodded, a quick glance around telling him that Gimli had rushed to Surdim's side the moment he had overcome his surprise.  
  
Legolas's eyes had not left the fallen man, his mistrust mirroring Gimli's. Just as the dwarf knelt down next to the man, Legolas's view was blocked as the sons of Elrond appeared before him, identical grins on their faces.  
  
Calenuial stood silently behind his friend, the bow loose in his hands again. He knew Legolas well, knew his actions had angered his friend greatly and he would be wise to keep some distance for a while. From past experiences he had learned it would take a few hours for him to calm down again and so he silently stepped away, leaving Legolas to face the sons of Elrond, and moved into the clearing.  
  
His eyes had taken in the scene, acknowledging that there was no more resistance from the bush rangers. The men from Rohan were herding them together, separating men from women and children.  
  
A frown on his face, the golden-haired elf slowly made his way to Gimli's side, his thoughts whirling. He could not remember a tale told by Legolas that would explain why a man would have reason to hate him thus. And there was no doubt that Legolas knew Surdim from a previous encounter and that the man harbored ill feelings towards his friend.  
  
He searched his memory for any hint of who this Surdim was, but the name was unfamiliar and he was sure he had never heard it before. Then another memory made him freeze in mid step. There had been only one thing Legolas had never told him about, no matter how hard he had tried to learn of what had befallen his friend.  
  
Calenuial's eyes closed for a moment as he recalled Legolas taking a bath a few months ago--the shock and pain followed by outrage he had felt at seeing Legolas's bare back. The scars there had not been old enough to have faded and they had told a story of mistreatment that had filled him with rage at whoever had done this. But no matter how many questions he had asked, Legolas had refused to tell him anything, finally ordering him not to speak of it to anyone.  
  
Could it be that he had finally found an explanation?  
  
His eyes found Gimli who still knelt next to the prone form and a decision was quickly made. If anyone knew, it would be the dwarf, for hardly ever had Legolas traveled without him for a companion.  
  
As he stepped closer he could hear the woman's voice, quivering with exhaustion and fear.  
  
'Is he dead?'  
  
The dwarf looked up, smiling at her.  
  
'Nay,' he answered, his voice gentle. 'He still draws breath.'  
  
The relief on her face was astonishing, considering the man they spoke of had threatened the child she still held in her arms. Tears were running down her face as Calenuial silently passed her to step closer to Gimli.  
  
The elf crouched down next to the dwarf, his eyes wandering over the still form. He could hardly make out any sign of life and it was curiosity that made him reach out and touch the man's hand. He recoiled immediately. Surprised blue eyes turned on Gimli, but ere he could speak the dwarf shook his head in silent warning and he held his tongue in sudden understanding. There was no need for the woman to know the man would not live for long.  
  
'So this is Surdim?' he asked instead, his eyes watching the dwarf's face closely.  
  
'Aye,' Gimli answered and the emotions in his eyes were easily identified as cold rage and hate. Another clue for Calenuial that this man had indeed done harm to Legolas before.  
  
'So this is the man who dared to raise a hand against the son of Thranduil,' he hissed, his own anger winning over.  
  
The dwarf shot him a surprised glance. Legolas had not spoken of this incident ever again and Gimli was quite sure he had never mentioned it to his father, keeping it a secret from the king of Mirkwood to not further damage the already strained relationship between the elves of Mirkwood and the men of Gondor. But Calenuial was his friend and the dwarf did not think it completely unlikely he had spoken to him about his ordeal.  
  
Under different circumstances he might have guarded his tongue better, and given a more vague answer to not betray something Legolas might have wished to keep secret. But right now he was wearied from concern and relief as well as the strain of the past few days, and so his answer came without much thought.  
  
'Aye, and once more has he shown nothing but cowardice. He could not face one elf alone and he had to hide behind a child.'  
  
Two of Eomer's men had stepped towards Lian and the man rose at their command to go with them. There was a deep pain in Clardyn's eyes as she watched him go.  
  
The dwarf's eyes followed Lian, piercing the man for a long moment before he turned his attention to the woman sitting on the ground so close to them. He rose to his feet and gave a small bow.  
  
'We have to thank you, Milady,' he spoke with much respect. 'Your actions may very well have saved my life, as well as that of a certain elf. How a woman like you could choose to stay with a man like him, I cannot understand. But should you need anything, I will help you the best I can.'  
  
Clardyn looked up at him and a sad smile formed on her face.  
  
'And yet it was Lian that stayed Bethrol's hand so many nights ago,' she answered softly. 'I say not that he was innocent, but with his actions he might have saved your friend's life. He is not as bad a man as you might think.'  
  
Gimli only shook his head. 'The man I know has taken part in a most cruel and cowardly attack on one of my dearest friends and has caused him much pain. Forgive me when I cannot see any good in this.'  
  
She gave no answer, only tightening her arms around her son.  
  
Calenuial had listened silently, observing each gesture and expression so as to miss no clues. As Gimli turned away, he found himself face to face with the still kneeling elf and a hard grip on his arm stopped him from walking away.  
  
'This man.' Calenuial gestured towards Lian. 'He was one of them?'  
  
Gimli only gave a nod.  
  
'And which one is Bethrol?' Calenuial's eyes were burning now. He only had a vague suspicion of what had happened that night, but it seemed that the one to inflict the worst had been the man whose name he had just learned.  
  
Yet it was this question that told Gimli that the elf was only guessing and did not know the truth. Calenuial could see the sudden guarded expression on the dwarf's face and realized he had given himself away.  
  
'This is not a matter I should speak of,' Gimli answered.  
  
The elf's grip did not loosen.  
  
'I only wish to know what has been done to Legolas and who did it,' he demanded. His voice grew softer, almost pleading with the dwarf as he added, 'I have seen the scars he carries, Gimli.'  
  
'It is not my place to speak of this.' Gimli's voice held a note of regret. He knew he would feel the same in Calenuial's place. He held the elf's inquiring gaze for a long time, until defeat clouded it and the hand fell away from his arm.  
  
'Legolas refuses to speak of it,' the elf sighed. 'You were there when it happened?'  
  
'Not when he was attacked,' Gimli answered. 'But afterwards. And I can assure you he took his revenge. The one you asked about lives no more.'  
  
Calenuial nodded. What he had learned was little more than he had already suspected, and it did nothing to ease his ire.  
  
'Then he was not without a friend then,' he spoke sadly. 'Oft he has been warned not to mingle with mortals, for their hearts are darkened by desires and hate beyond our understanding. It is a small relief to know that at least one of them stays true to him.'  
  
With that, the elf gracefully stood and walked away. Gimli watched him disappear into the woods once more without a further glance towards the men of Rohan.  
  
@@@  
  
Somehow it was always slightly unnerving to face the twin sons of Elrond when they wore matching grins such as these. The throbbing in his head that seemed to have worsened again and the slight feeling of dizziness did nothing to make Legolas feel any surer he was up to whatever they had in mind.  
  
'Are you well, Legolas?' Elrohir inquired, but the sparkle in his eyes made the concern in his voice just a bit less believable.  
  
'I am well enough, thank you,' the elf answered carefully.  
  
'You did not hurt your arm any further?'  
  
'Nay, I am fine."  
  
The amused tone in Elrohir's voice as well as the smirk on Elladan's face made him ever more wary.  
  
'This is good,' Elladan spoke.  
  
'Aye,' his brother consented. 'It would do no good to return him more damaged than he was before.'  
  
'It might lower his worth.' The grin on Elladan's face could not grow any wider.  
  
A frown appeared on Legolas's face as his eyes wandered from one to the other.  
  
'My worth?' he asked, slightly puzzled over the odd wording.  
  
'Aye. You know he might think of reselling you and would not get as much as he paid for you,' Elrohir explained, his face solemn despite the mirth bubbling inside of him.  
  
'Reselling me?' Now outrage was added to confusion.  
  
'He paid a good price for you, after all,' Elladan explained.  
  
'Who did? Pay for me? What is this you speak of?'  
  
'I am not sure, Elladan, if anyone would truly think of buying him. He seems a little hotheaded.'  
  
Before Elrohir could answer his brother, Legolas's voice cut in, clearly annoyed now.  
  
'You make even less sense than usual. Why would someone sell me? I am no horse to be sold to the next one who offers a good price!'  
  
That caused both dark-haired elves to snicker, and with an exasperated sigh Legolas threw his hands in the air.  
  
'It is no use speaking to you,' he decided and turned away. A quick glance was exchanged and the twins moved quickly after him, taking him into their midst.  
  
'Wait, Legolas. Let us explain,' Elladan quickly spoke, doing his best to keep the laughter out of his voice.  
  
With another sigh Legolas stopped.  
  
'What do you recall of your escape from this camp?'  
  
He thought for a moment ere he answered Elrohir's question. He could remember trying to flee, running through the forest, but the memory was dim and unclear. 'Not much. I was given a draught that impaired my senses,' he finally confessed.  
  
'Well no wonder, for you did not really escape.'  
  
In surprise he turned his head to stare at Elladan.  
  
'But how did I come to be with you again if I did not escape? I assumed you freed me somehow.'  
  
'Freed might be the wrong word,' Elrohir snickered but this time Legolas refused to turned his head and kept his gaze on Elladan. The amusement on his face caused a feeling of foreboding.  
  
'How exactly did you get me out?' he asked, despite the little voice at the back of his mind that warned him that maybe he did not really want to know.  
  
'We did nothing,' Elladan grinned. 'It was all Gimli's idea and doing.'  
  
Taking a deep breath, Legolas used the last bit of his patience to ask once more, 'So would you care to explain how he freed me?'  
  
He could see the look they exchanged, the wide grin on Elladan's face. Still he could not believe the next words he heard.  
  
'Gimli bought you.'  
  
He stared at them in utter disbelief, the mere thought too much for him to accept. Their laughter at his stunned expression only increased the slowly developing feeling of outrage.  
  
'He bought me?'  
  
'Aye, my friend,' Elrohir laughed. 'But it was a hard bargain.'  
  
'I cannot believe this!' His voice shook with anger and contempt. 'I am no piece of merchandise that one might sell for some gold!'  
  
'No, you are not,' Elladan confirmed. 'Gold was not enough to buy you. Gimli had to offer this to sway them into handing you over.'  
  
He held the necklace out to show it to Legolas.  
  
'I think he paid a fair price for you. I wonder if he will use you as decoration for his Glittering Caves, or if it is your talent for singing he bought you for.'  
  
But had he expected to annoy his friend further he was surprised to see the change of expression on Legolas's face. The golden-haired elf did not react to the barb but reached out to carefully take the piece of jewelry from his hand. The anger drained from his face as he gazed upon it and the look he wore now silenced the twins faster than any word could have.  
  
Elrohir shot a quick glance at his brother who only shrugged, not knowing what had caused the sudden shift of Legolas's mood either. Fearing they had gone too far in their teasing, the older twin quickly spoke.  
  
'We meant no harm, Legolas. Gimli's plan was the only way to get you out of this camp without bloodshed.'  
  
Legolas only nodded. He held the necklace up to the sun, watching it sparkle.  
  
'You know not the worth of this,' he spoke softly. 'To Gimli it is no less precious than the gift of Galadriel. If he gave this away to save me I cannot help but feel honored, for it tells me how much he values me. Even if it should mean I am his property now.'  
  
The last sentence was spoken with a hint of wry humor.  
  
He pocketed the necklace before either of the twins could protest.  
  
'Speaking of which, has he recovered Galadriel's gift?'  
  
The twins shook their heads.  
  
'I think not,' Elladan answered. 'There was no time to look for it until now.' 


	28. Lost and Found

Hello to everybody who is still reading this! Yes, unbelievable but true - I am finally back ! The last few months were very chaotic and left little time for writing but it should all be better now. I hope it will not take me another nine months to finish the next chapter :-)  
  
A big thank you goes to all of you who kept asking for an update - even when I did not answer for so long. I do not know if I had continued to write without your encouragement and all the praise I received :-)))  
  
Another big thank you to Little My who once more offered to beta.  
  
So, I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you seemed to enjoy the rest of this story.  
  
Oh - and best wishes for the new year!!!  
  
__________________________  
  
As Legolas's attention turned once more to the camp, the chaos there had almost settled. His eyes wandered over the clearing, looking for Gimli, and he found the dwarf speaking to one of Eomer's men, gesturing wildly. Sharp elven hearing could make out the words spoken and a smile passed over his face.   
  
'He is looking for it,' Legolas commented, and the twins nodded. They had not missed the dwarf's searching of the camp.   
  
'Maybe we should help him,' Elrohir offered, a playful twinkle in his eyes.   
  
'And maybe not,' Legolas quickly answered, shaking his head. 'Sometimes it is better not to interfere.'   
  
He watched as Gimli walked over to one of the small huts, entering it with determined steps. But his attention was diverted by the sound of someone approaching, and he turned his head to see Eomer walking towards him. With a smile on his face the elf took a few steps of his own towards the man. 'Eomer,' he greeted him with a slight bow of respect that was quickly returned.  
  
'Legolas. It is good to see you well.' The King of Rohan extended an arm to greet the elf, relief and joy open on his face.   
  
'I have to thank you for your assistance in this matter,' the elf answered with a quick sweep of his hand indicating his surroundings. 'Things could have gone amiss rather quickly had you not arrived in so timely a fashion.' A flicker passed over his face as he added, 'Although I cannot remember when and why this happened.'   
  
With a wry grin, the man was glad to enlighten him. 'I received word from Aragorn that the Lord of Ithilien and the Lord of the Glittering Caves, together with the sons of Elrond, had decided to hunt in my lands. That was warning enough to gather my men and set out.'   
  
He laughed at the mixture of confusion and embarrassment on Legolas's face.   
  
'Well, my friend,' he added, 'We have been trying to find the hiding place of these thieves and murderers for some time now. I was sure the keen eyes of elves would find their traces, and I hoped to catch and burn them out once and for all.' A glimmer of satisfaction shone in his eyes as he surveyed the clearing. 'It seems we succeeded in this task, and my thanks go to you for this.'   
  
'What will happen now?'   
  
'The men will be taken to Edoras, to face trial. The women and their children can choose if they wish to accompany them or leave to find another place to live.' The man's expression had turned grim as he spoke and for a moment both stayed silent. Then a sudden smile lit Eomer's face. 'It seems Gimli has found what he has been looking for.'   
  
Indeed, the dwarf's demeanor had changed completely as he stepped out of the hut. A pleased smile graced his face and he seemed much more relaxed than he had been before.   
  
'We will leave soon,' Eomer spoke once more. 'I do not think you will wish to come with us?'   
  
Casting a short glance at the captives, Legolas shook his head. He remembered the feeling of ropes binding him too clearly still to bear the thought of traveling with them.   
  
'I will enjoy the hospitality of your people another time, my friend,' he answered. 'But take my best greetings to your Queen.'   
  
He met Gimli at the other side of the clearing, the very pleased expression on his friend's face lifting his heart.   
  
'You have found it?' he asked.   
  
'Aye, I have. There is naught a dwarf misses if his mind is set on finding it.'   
  
'I am pleased to hear this,' Legolas answered. 'Surely this was the way you found me when I got lost? I only wished you would have succeeded faster, for I was getting rather bored here.'   
  
'So was that why you kept falling asleep, my friend?' Gimli asked sweetly. 'And I thought there was a more serious reason that prevented you from maintaining your senses. Not that you usually succeed in doing this.'   
  
'So tell me, my friend, how did you get me out of here?' The elf's voice had turned serious, curiosity shining in his eyes.   
  
Gimli opened his mouth but words failed him. Slightly embarrassed, he stared at the elf, his thoughts racing. How would the elf react to what he had done? He was a proud creature and could take great offense in hearing this tale. The last thing Gimli wished for was to affront his friend's feelings.   
  
'Well, Gimli?' Legolas prodded, seeing Gimli's reluctance. He had to keep the mirth out of his eyes and from his face as he waited for the dwarf to speak.   
  
'It was no big matter,' Gimli finally answered. 'We came here, took you and left.'   
  
'That was a very short story,' the elf said innocently. 'It is certainly below the skill of a storyteller who usually needs hours to recount one minor incident.'   
  
'There is not much to tell,' the dwarf answered back, his eyes searching for something or someone to distract the elf. He really did not wish to tell him the truth.   
  
Something glittering caught his eyes and he turned to look at it, an expression of chagrin passing over his face as he recognized the necklace dangling from Legolas's fingers.   
  
'I think there is much to tell,' the elf spoke and the expression in his eyes was a mixture of fondness and gratitude. 'And I think this belongs to you.'   
  
Gimli did reach out but stopped himself in mid-movement. He shook his head.   
  
'Nay, my friend, there you are wrong,' he spoke softly. 'This,' and his finger touched the sparkling material ever so slightly, 'was never mine. Even when I formed the mithril and set the rubies, it was never mine. It was made to belong to another but never to me.'   
  
His eyes met Legolas's, seeing understanding there.   
  
'I wish for you to keep it.'   
  
Surprise formed on the elf's face and he shook his head.  
  
'This I cannot accept,' he exclaimed. 'It is too precious.'   
  
'Aye, it is,' Gimli answered. 'It is not meant to be carried around in my bag until the day I die, to finally get mingled with the other gems and jewels my people keep. It was meant to belong to one person and be cherished for its meaning and not the worth of its materials. I wish for you to keep it and one day give it to someone you love.' An embarrassed smile formed on his face as he cast an almost shy glance at Legolas. 'You may call me selfish if I do wish for it to be kept in honor. As long as your people live, I will know it will not get lost or forgotten and with it I hope that the memories will stay as well.'   
  
The elf did not protest any further, the deep meaning of this gift not lost to him. Instead he bowed, his fingers closing around the necklace as he pressed it against his heart.   
  
'It will be kept in honor for as long as I live,' he vowed. 'And for as long as my people remember me and the stout dwarf who fought at my side.'   
  
'Guess that means about forever,' Gimli grumbled with a smile.   
  
Long fingers secured the precious gift safely inside Legolas's tunic. His hand lingered a moment above it ere it fell back to his side.   
  
'It seems,' Gimli spoke, his eyes taking in their surroundings, 'that the men of Rohan have everything under control.'   
  
'Aye,' Legolas answered. 'It seems that our work is done.'   
  
'Our work? I do not recall you doing much more than getting yourself captured and sleeping.'   
  
'You do not understand the brilliance of my doings,' Legolas answered in a lecturing voice. Ignoring the snort this evoked from the dwarf he continued. 'I was merely offering myself as bait so I would be taken to this place and you could follow me. I did trust Elladan and Elrohir to free me in time.'   
  
'I wonder what part racing through the woods like a blind deer took in your plan?'   
  
Legolas could not remember this detail very clearly but answered quickly.   
  
'To cause a moment of distraction, of course.'   
  
Gimli's laughter told him it had been the wrong answer.   
  
'Distract whom?' the dwarf snickered. 'The birds on the trees? You were with us and out of danger already, my friend, when you took off like a startled deer. A drunk startled deer, I might add.'   
  
Not even Legolas's quick mind could come up with an answer to that, as he could not remember much more about this incident than running. He remembered the confusion and the disorientation he had felt, and a disgusted look crossed his features.   
  
The dwarf's voice still contained laughter as he spoke again.   
  
'Nay, my friend, this time there is no way of denying the bitter truth: you got yourself captured and into a helpless situation, and it was the dwarves who saved you from it.' With a very satisfied grin he took out his pipe and weed.   
  
For a moment it seemed that Legolas was pondering how to create another version of this story but finally he shrugged.   
  
'I see that you will never understand the great planning behind all this. So I will leave you to your beliefs.' He grinned at Gimli as he added. 'I will go now and thank Eomer for aiding you, for I fear without his help you would not have been able to succeed so easily.'   
  
Shaking his head, Gimli chose to ignore the elf's words and lit his pipe. But he stayed at Legolas's side as the elf made his way through the camp to meet Eomer once more. They were joined halfway by Elladan and Elrohir.  
  
''Do you wish to accompany the King of Rohan to Edoras?' the older twin asked.  
  
'I do not plan to,' Legolas answered for himself, with a questioning glance directed at Gimli. He had not thought about asking the dwarf yet.   
  
'Neither do I,' Gimli answered. 'I feel no desire to keep company with these thieves and murderers any longer, and I doubt my kinsmen feel much different.'   
  
Elladan nodded in silent agreement, speaking for both of them. 


End file.
